The Arda Chronicles: Red Riding Hood
by AmandaBloodhart
Summary: Rita Reid's childhood fascination revolved around the famous fairy tale. Now eighteen, she struggles emotionally from the loss of her mother before a magic book tells her that she is the infamous wearer of the mystic red cloak, destined to invoke its magic to save a fantasy world. The problem is that she will need the help of the Big Bad Wolf. Rated for Language/Violence/Gore/Sex
1. CHI Legend of the Cloak

**Disclaimer: **_Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves to inspire this story._

**CHAPTER I – Legend of the Cloak**

* * *

_Candlelight flickered in the windowsill of the Reid residence as snow fell softly, making the ground look like a fluffy blanket. Little Rita Reid sat near the bay window, head resting on her arms as she fought the nagging fog of sleep. Her fight became more desperate the longer she watched the flakes descend, impairing her hearing enough not to notice her mother come up behind her._

_Surprisingly, Rita wasn't startled when mommy placed her hands gently on the child's shoulders. "Come on, sweetheart. It's time for bed."_

_"I'm not tired," Rita quietly protested, a yawn snubbing her statement._

_Her mother, Sophie, only chuckled, "'Not tired,' my butt."_

_Sophie proceeded to pick her up and bring her upstairs to her room as Rita asked, "Can you read me the story again?"_

_Her mother smiled. "I'll always read it to you." After tucking Rita into bed, she took a seat next to her, the little girl snuggling into her side as Sophie reached for a book on the nightstand titled_

_Little Red Riding Hood. She began by reciting, "Once upon a time, there was a dear little girl," and when she finished the book, she anticipated her daughter's usual questions._

_"Why does the wolf want to eat Little Red Riding Hood and her grandma? Why can't he just ask for food instead of eating people? I mean, he seemed nice, so why did he turn bad?"_

_Sophie just smiled and said, "Well, the book is a lesson, telling little girls not to stray from their path, otherwise a big scary monster will get them!" She emphasized this by pretending to eat Rita's neck, making mock growls and munching sounds, eliciting a fit of giggles from the child._

_Once she calmed down, she declared, "If I was Little Red Riding Hood, I'd tell the wolf that he doesn't have to be a bad guy."_

_"I'm sure you would. Our family name, Reid, actually means Red."_

_She gasped aloud, "Really?"_

_"Yes. So maybe you are Little Red Riding Hood, and if she doesn't go to sleep, the Big Bad Wolf is going to get you!" Another fit of giggles after a tickle attack, Sophie then proceeded to fix the covers around Rita, kissing atop her head. "Goodnight, sweetheart," she whispered._

_"Goodnight, mommy," the child yawned, eyes slowly drifting closed._

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too."_

* * *

Twelve years had gone by, Rita Reid, now seventeen years old, though her eighteenth was coming up, sat in class, trying not to fall asleep from a particular student's presentation on the significance of...whatever it was he was talking about. When the bell rang for lunch period, she raised her head, waking up again, she among many other students, grabbed her belongings, being the first to leave the class as the teacher gave them a reminder of their assignment over the weekend.

Moments later, after putting her things away in her locker, she was in the washroom, leaning on the sink after washing her hands. Emerald green eyes looked up into her reflection, showing a girl with light skin, and somewhat dark auburn hair. Right now, her hair had been let down, a layered and choppy cut barely touching her shoulders with bangs across her forehead. She went to tie up her hair in a simple ponytail as she observed her thin figure with barely any boobs to speak off. She hardly ate, thus the frail figure, and she hardly went outside other than for school and errands, so of course she was pale. The shape of her eyes almost appeared fairy-like but still teetering on normal, her nose an average in the middle shape, and her mouth seemed just as average. Her hands were small, her nails short, and her face was oval-shaped. She just appeared average, albeit a little frail-looking, but average. Still, one couldn't call her unattractive, just plain. She wore mainly fitting t-shirts and jeans, as well as a pair of her favourite black Chuck Taylor's. Still, due to her childhood fascination, she never failed to wear a red sweater/vest/coat with a hood.

School continued without any sort of incident. When classes finally ended, she started heading down the front steps only to stop short of the sidewalk the moment she saw her father in his pick-up truck. What the hell was he doing here, she wondered bitterly. He sat in the driver's seat, smiling upon seeing her. Dark messy waves were atop his head and he had brown eyes. He dressed like a typical truck driver wearing jeans, work boots, and a plaid button-up. Still, he also looked like a mess, unshaven with no beard and bags under his eyes.

"Hey, darlin'," he greeted. "I take it you just finished?"

Unimpressed, she took only a couple of steps forward. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to pick you up from school."

"Thanks, but, uh, I can walk, thanks."

She proceeded to walk away but he drove alongside her. "Hey, don't be like that. I'm trying, okay?" When she only ignored him, he prodded further. "C'mon! I'm going to the meetings like I promised!" She walked faster in an attempt to get out of earshot, but of course, he only drove faster. "Besides, your birthday is coming up."

"I'm shocked you remembered," she muttered.

"I got you a present," he insisted.

"Buying me is not going to get you on my good side."

"At least hear me out." She paused in her stride then stopped, looking at him. "C'mon, I'll give you a ride to your grandmother's. You don't have to say anything. I'm just asking you to listen," he pleaded before adding, "Please?"

She hesitated, but considered before finally deciding reluctantly to get in the truck. He gave a small triumphant smile, but upon seeing her impatient expression, his face quickly sobered with a clearing of his throat. "Well? Speak."

"I've been going to the AA meetings for a couple of months. I got myself sober and a job at a lumber company, and I get a daily test done to check my alcohol levels. I'm...getting my act together. I was hoping, if you'll let me, we could spend time together on your birthday, do whatever you want."

Rita was silent for a long time before asking, "What about your parole?"

"Oh, it's done, my parole's finished."

"And you haven't stolen anything as of late?"

"Not a damn thing. I've got a job now; I can buy what I need. Also, I'm keeping the house clean, and I'm learning to cook so I can at least feed you. I'm still pretty bad at it, but the neighbour lady, Mrs. Grayson, she says I'm getting better at it. So maybe, if you want, you can come back to live with me."

The idea sent an unpleasant jolt through her, though her face and body language betrayed nothing. Quietly, she said, "I don't think that's a good idea right now. We'll see, depending on how I feel and if you're telling the truth."

Slowly, he nodded, keeping his eyes forward. "That's fair." Soon, he pulled up in front of a cozy house with flowerbeds in the front and a swing on the porch. "About your birthday..."

"I'll think about it," she said suddenly, leaving the truck without so much as a glance at him.

"Hey, here's your present before I forget!" He reached behind the seat, pulling out a small bag.

She stared at it as he held it out. "If you remember when my birthday is, come over and give it to me then. I might then consider listening to more of what you have to say." And so, she went inside, closing the door quietly. Looking up, she spotted her grandmother, Ophelia. "Hi, grandma."

Inside, it smelled of baked bread. The elderly woman stood in the doorway of the kitchen straight down the hall from the front door. Her hair was white and curled, a small bun on the crown of her head. Just like Rita, she looked thin and frail, but her appearance was deceiving as she was as strong as ever. Her grey eyes twinkled slightly with a smile as she walked slowly towards her granddaughter. Have you ever met one of those elderly women who just seemed...cute? Yeah, she's one of those. Wearing a white blouse, tan slacks and a blue apron, one could tell she was keeping busy in the kitchen.

"You're home early today. Did you take the bus today?"

"No...Charlie drove me home."

Ophelia stopped walking, confusion written on her features. "Charlie? Did he force you to-?"

"No, it was of my free will." Placing down her schoolbag, she asked, "Do you need any help?"

Ophelia just smiled, waving off the offer. "Don't you worry, I'm doing just fine. Just making loafs and buns." She blanked for a moment before saying suddenly, "Oh, I made you a snack if you're hungry. I'll be starting dinner soon."

"Okay, but how about I make dinner tonight. You sound like you've been working hard all day," Rita offered conversationally as she walked into the kitchen with her nana. "What do you feel like?"

Her grandmother thought it over. "How about soup in a bread bowl?"

Rita smiled softly. "Hearty soup then?"

"Oh, but of course."

* * *

A meal and math homework later, Rita sat at her desk in her room, typing on her laptop for her Language Studies assignment. Resting her head on a fist, she stared blankly at the screen before her eyes glanced over to a framed photo of Sophie and a younger Rita. Next to the photo was woven doll made to look like Red Riding Hood, around her neck was a silver bracelet with a variety of charms on it. Her mother's, she thought solemnly. Now it belonged to her after her mother's death.

She heard a quiet knock on her door before Ophelia came in. "I just came to check on you."

Rita only smiled. "I'm fine, grandma."

The old woman only nodded. "What did my no-good son-in-law say to you?"

Rita sighed as Ophelia sat on the bed before explaining the whole conversation. "I decided to let him come over on my birthday...if he remembers."

The old woman had a critical expression. Sighing, she said, "Well, it's up to you. I never liked him the moment I met him, but either way, he's your father, and it does seem like he's turning himself around, at least for your sake." She sighed again. "I just don't want you to get hurt again. It's his fault that..."

"I know," Rita said. "Still, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, at least for now."

Ophelia nodded. "Well, I'm going to watch some Wheel of Fortune. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

* * *

Oddly enough, her birthday was probably one of the best days of the year. It was in the fall, her favourite season, and it was neither too cold nor too warm. The colours of the leaves were always dazzling this time of year. Despite this, Rita was anxious about her father coming over; at least it was Friday. Getting up for school, she headed downstairs, only to be greeted by the smell of raspberry waffles. Walking into the kitchen, she spotted a small fancy little breakfast, a plate of waffles with whipped cream and chopped strawberries on top. On the side was a glass of orange juice and a couple slices of toast with cheese whiz.

Her grandmother turned to her with a bright smile on her face. "Good morning! And how's the birthday girl this morning?"

Rita scoffed, unable to help the smile. "Oh grandma, you didn't have to fix me the fancy breakfast."

Ophelia only walked over to give her a tight hug. "Oh, pish posh. It's your birthday! I think you of all people deserve a good breakfast. I also made your lunch today. You need more food in you, child."

"I'm eighteen now, I'm a grown woman."

The elder only laughed heartily, "Of course you are. How could I forget? Also, when are you going to find a nice boy?"

Rita's eyebrows rose at the question. "It's not like I haven't been dating. Why does this matter all of a sudden?"

"I just thought it would be nice if you had a boyfriend to spoil you on your birthday."

A laugh bubbled out of Rita. Of course, she thought. Sitting down, she said, "I just haven't found anybody to call my own yet, that's all. There's always a chance at college."

"As long as your keep your virginity till marriage." Rita nearly choked on her orange juice. "I know you think I'm a little old fashioned in that area but I think the marriage will mean more if you wait till your wedding night to lose your virginity."

"What if the sex is a letdown?" Rita asked with mock interest. "Marriage will suck then."

"Marriage isn't about sex, it's about love."

"Tell that to those with arranged marriages."

It took a moment before Ophelia responded with, "Every culture is different." Rita could only shrug with mild agreement. "One day, you'll find the one who you will share the rest of your life with."

"You're making it sound like I'll know the moment I see them."

"You don't believe in love at first sight?"

Rita snorted, "No."

Ophelia gaped at her. "Rita Reid, I'm ashamed of you for that!"

"Okay, okay, I believe in _lust_at first sight. That's the extent I will believe in."

"What about Romeo and Juliet?"

"Stupid teens with hormones."

"Cinderella?"

"Horny prince wanting a piece of ass of the only decent looking girl in the room. Either that or the fairy godmother simply made her irresistible."

"Oh, you're too much. One day, you'll see!"

Robin only munched on her breakfast in silence. Love at first sight? She doubt she would ever experience such a thing. It was far too unrealistic and pipe-dreamy to ever hope to experience. Still, if she ever wanted a particular man, he would have to be reliable and honest, unlike her father. Thoughts reverting back to him, her stomach had that anxious feeling again. Maybe she wasn't ready for him to be her father again. It was like she was already anticipating him screwing up.

Not wanting to be late for school, she ran upstairs to get showered and dressed. Deciding to be bold, she left her hair down, straightening it. Now wearing an over the shoulder black sweater that reached mid thighs, black nylons and a black jean skirt, she grabbed a red hooded vest before grabbing her bag and such. Staring at the bracelet again, she considered that she wanted her mother to be with her. She then unlatched and placed it around her wrist, the sound of tiny jingles ringing softly.

Making it to school ten minutes before the bell, she went to her locker, grabbing her books for her morning classes. She gasped with shock when she was startled out of her thoughts by her best friend from kindergarten. "Good morning!" Rita glared slightly at Wendy Boyd. The girl only shrunk in apology. "Sorry."

Wendy was what one would call a typical bookworm. She had long banana cream blonde hair that waved slightly on the ends, bangs framing her cute little round face. Behind her rectangular black-rimmed glasses were russet-brown coloured eyes. She was shorter than Rita by a couple of inches, and Rita was only five-six. She wore a white t-shirt and a denim blue cardigan, as well as a long denim skirt and pair of brown suede knee-high boots. In her arms, she was carrying what Rita could only guess was Wendy's homework...and extra-credit work, as well as a flashy little gift bag with blue tissue paper stick out.

"It's alright. I was just deep in thought. Don't your arms ever get tired carrying all that stuff?"

Wendy shook her head. "Not really. I'm used to it. Oh," she said, struggling to shift her armful as she held up the gift bag, "happy eighteenth birthday!"

Rita scoffed, smiling with amusement, taking the gift bag, if only to lessen Wendy's luggage. "Thanks. How about I help you with some of that before you drop it?"

After they got to their first class, Wendy poked Rita's side. "Well? Open it!"

Rita rubbed her side, sitting down. "I can open it when I get home. Knowing my grandmother, she'll have a whole pile of gifts waiting for me in the living room."

"Please?" Wendy begged, producing a puppy face.

The brunette could only laugh. "Okay, fine. Sheesh."

Removing the top layer of tissue paper, she pulled out a hardcover dark brown leather notebook with a gold lockable latch and gold key with the end shaped like an intricate crescent moon, and a single round ruby embedded in it. Another crescent moon shape was stamped into the cover of the book. When she unlocked it, there was a red ribbon attached to serve as a bookmark and gold lettering on the inner cover reading, '_This notebook belongs to Rita Reid_.' Rita smiled as she looked it over, and saw there was a small box inside the bag still. Pulling it out, she discovered it was a metallic red and gold fountain pen, her name engraved on the side in gold. One thing to mention was that Wendy's parents owned a fancy little book store where you could have custom notebooks and diaries, as well as buy old literature. Most of the literature-inclined and elderly loved this shop.

Rita turned to Wendy, shocked at the brilliance of the present. "My god, Wendy, this must have cost a lot."

Wendy shrugged, smiling. "My parents like you, and we all knew you were going to become an author, so I thought you could use something to write stuff in. Pen is refillable, by the way."

"What kind of paper is this?"

"I don't know, actually. I just thought the sepia tone gave it a nice aged look, and it's thick enough for writing on both sides of the page."

Rita smiled softly, almost petting the book. "Thank you, Wendy. I really love this."

"You're welcome. Have any thoughts on what you're going to write in it?"

Rita thought for a moment, but shook her head. "It's a really nice book, and I just want to save it for the best stuff." She turned to her friend. "Today's the day."

"For what?" Wendy asked, but when Rita only stared, realization hit. "Oh yeah, your dad."

"I don't know what I'm going to say if he comes over."

"You'll think of something."

Rita nodded, but she wasn't sure if she could. Just then, the self-proclaimed popularity queen walked in, followed by her sycophantic minions, walked in then sat down. The girl's face was caked with so much cover up and other forms of make-up, Rita was surprised she never broke out in acne. She had dark brown hair and wore clothes that were of high brands and glamour. Rita was always disgusted by her snotty attitude and her need to show as much cleavage as possible. Being proud of your body was one thing, it was entirely another to be showing it off as a way to tell people you believe yourself above them.

Queen Bitch, also known as Sarina Batela, turned her attention to Wendy. "Hey, Boyd, I was hoping you could let me copy your notes from yesterday's class," she asked entirely too sweetly.

Wendy just stared for a moment. "I think you should start writing down your own notes. I'm not responsible for your grades. You won't learn anything copying from me."

"Oh, sweetie, this will be the last time, I swear. My pen didn't work yesterday." Rita snorted with disdain and disbelief, catching Sarina's attention. "What's the matter with you?"

Quietly, Rita just rested her hands on top of the table in front of her, preparing for something inevitable. "She said no, Sarina. You're going to have to ask someone else."

"Well, nobody asked you."

"Well, I'm telling you. Back off." Rita warned her off with a glare as the classmates that were still coming into class watched the tension build between the two.

Sarina licked her lips as if she was deciding how to go about this. Despite her appearance, she was actually really smart, only had too much of a misplaced ego. "Or else what? You'll tell on me?"

"No," said Rita, "I don't go crying to people like you, princess."

That ignited a flare in Sarina's brown eyes. "Isn't that because you have no one to go crying to?"

A dagger went straight into her heart. Of course, everyone in town knew of Rita Reid's sorrowful past. Frankly, Rita always thought it was nobody's business, especially not Sarina's. Wendy saw the murder in Rita's eyes and sought to remedy the situation before her friend blew up. If there was anyone who could match Sarina's temper, it was Rita, and those furious clashes always ended with both of them bleeding. They had been enemies since they met, and Rita was never one to back down.

"Class is about to start, so may I suggest we come to a truce before either of you end up in detention?"

Sarina leaned back in her seat, sighing as if she was bored. "You're right, Boyd. I suppose Reid and I can reserve this for later."

This was not the answer Wendy hoped for. Sarina wanted to draw blood and Rita obviously wanted a fight. Her only hope to stop them was to stop her friend, but as she turned to her, Rita said, "No. I have other plans. Besides, you're not worth my time."

Though it obviously pissed off Sarina, she said nothing when the teacher walked in. Wendy turned to whisper to Rita, "I almost thought you were going to accept."

"I almost did," Rita admitted. After all, she would have been no better than Sarina.

* * *

The pile of presents that Rita had expected was not in the living room when she and Wendy walked through the front door. Instead, they were blocking her way to her bedroom upstairs on the stair steps, wrapped up with holographic paper and thin ribbons. Rita shook her head at the lengths her grandmother went to. The house also smelled of sugar.

"Grandma?" Rita yelled out. "I'm home!"

The answer came from upstairs. "I'll be down in a minute!"

"Wendy's here too! We're going to do our homework in the living room since you _blocked_me from my room!"

Ophelia came out, smiling. "Hello Wendy."

"Hello Mrs. Reid."

"You girls help yourselves to the snack in the fridge. You're staying over tonight, dear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Isn't that lovely? Where do you want to go for dinner, Rita?"

Rita shrugged. "I'm happy eating here."

Ophelia chuckled. "Not today my dear. Restaurant of your choice."

Rita gnawed on her thumbnail in thought, turning to Wendy for any suggestions. "Don't look at me! It's _your_birthday."

"I guess I wouldn't mind going to that steakhouse. It's close by and pretty cheap. I heard their food is pretty good."

"They also got a buffet, right?" Wendy enquired.

Rita nodded. "Let's get our homework done then we'll go."

* * *

Homework done, stomachs filled with good food, and a nice cool breeze and beautiful sunset, the three of them walked home, chatting away. Rita and Wendy were supporting Ophelia despite her protests that she wasn't that old yet. They were laughing but Rita was the first to stop as her eyes veered towards the porch of their house, seeing Charlie sitting on the porch steps. Noticing Rita's strange silence, Wendy and Ophelia followed her gaze. Charlie raised his head and stood up upon seeing his daughter.

"Hey sweetheart. Happy birthday!" he declared with an awkward smile, but it faltered slightly.

Ophelia turned to Wendy, whispering, "Let's leave these two alone for a few minutes." Wendy nodded. She then turned to Rita, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. "We'll be inside if you need us." Walking to the house with Wendy, she stopped briefly to stare at her son-in-law. "Charlie."

"Ophelia."

"You may be turned around now, but if you hurt Rita ever again, I'll be the first person you'll be hearing from."

"I understand."

"You better hope you do," Ophelia warned, going inside soon after, leaving father and daughter alone outside.

Charlie stood, unable to conjure what to say. All Rita could think of was, "You came after all."

He nodded. "Of course I did. You're my daughter." He swallowed. "I, uh, brought your present." Cautiously, he walked over, as if any sudden move would scare Rita off. He held up the gift bag.

Taking it gingerly, Rita brought the bag to her chest. Though she knew what to do next, she felt awkward doing so, removing the tissue paper and pulling out a flat and wrapped object. Removing the colourful paper, she unveiled a book, but it looked extremely old. The grungy brown hardcover had no title on it and nothing on its spine either. It was at least an inch thick, and there was a leaf stamped into its cover. The design looked intricate, almost like it would belong to some fantasy genre. Opening it, the pages were blank. Odd, why would this book be blank? A forgotten notebook?

"Um," was all Rita said.

"I know it isn't much, but I thought you'd like a book to write in." Rita briefly wondered if everyone got the same idea before she spotted a barely visible message on the inner cover. Charlie spoke up once more. "Um, can we have lunch tomorrow? I'd really like to at least spoil you properly, since you must have already eaten."

Rita looked up. "Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Just show up before 12. Thanks for the present."

He nodded. "You're welcome. Happy birthday again." She nodded and went to go inside before he spoke up again, stopping on the steps. "I _am_sorry. I know you could never forgive me for what happened, but I hope you can at least allow me to make an attempt to atone for what I did."

Rita swallowed hard before turning to face him. Her eyes burned a little from being overwhelmed with bottled up emotions before she walked up to him and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. Who was she kidding? She missed her father, even if she was mad at him. He held her tight, kissing atop her head.

She pulled away after a moment, muttering, "You get one more chance. If you screw up again, don't ever hope to see or talk to me." He nodded.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked while sitting on the bed, now wearing flannel pyjamas.

Rita sat at her desk, staring into space. "Yeah, I'll live. It's just a lot to deal with."

"I can't believe he got you a blank book."

"It might not be blank."

"What?"

"Come here. It's impossible that it would just be blank. Book's too old to be empty. See this faded print here?" Rita asked, pointing to a nearly invisible script as Wendy stood beside her. "I can just barely make out the words. '_Spill a drop of what once was blue, and I will reveal the words to you._' What does that mean?"

Wendy clapped her hands excitedly. "Ooh, a riddle! Maybe it's one of those magic books. You know, the kind with invisible ink on the pages."

Rita rolled her eyes. "That's hardly magic. If it is invisible ink, all we need is heat, right?" Wendy nodded. "Go get my hairdryer; it's in the bathroom, left drawer." Her friend ran off, still excited as Rita looked at the pages, muttering, "Magic doesn't exist."

Wendy ran back in, looking for a plug. Succeeding, they heated the first five pages to see if anything came up. Nothing. Wendy's shoulders slumped. "Well, there's no invisible ink."

Rita sighed. "What's 'once was blue?'"

"Blood," Wendy replied simply.

"What?"

"Blood is actually blue until it hits oxygen and turns red."

"It's asking me to bleed on it?" Rita asked sceptically. "That's the dumbest thing I ever heard of."

"It's the only logical answer I can think of."

"Well, whatever, I'm not bleeding on it." Wendy shrugged. "Let's get some sleep."

* * *

The next day, Charlie had come to pick up Rita for lunch and now they were sitting in a diner munching on fries and burgers. Rita sipped at her milkshake quietly while Charlie watched her anxiously, chewing a recent bite of burger. He spotted the charm bracelet and smiled sadly.

Deciding to be the first to speak, to break the ice, he said, "So, you still want to be an author?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah."

"You going to college?

"Yeah."

"Which one?"

A pause. "I haven't decided yet. I just know what kind of course I'll be taking." Charlie nodded, and there was more silence. Now it was Rita's turn. "How's work?"

"Good. Good," he repeated quietly. "Keeps me busy. It's a good job." She nodded. Again, more silence. "How was your birthday?"

"Good. Got a lot of clothes."

"Clothes are good. Any..." he nearly choked on the next word, "boyfriends?"

The fact that he was uncomfortable with the idea of her dating amused and touched her. "Not at the moment. I've had a few, but none of them did it for me. Grandma is kind of eager about me finding a nice boy."

"I see," Charlie said thoughtfully. "Personally, I think you're better off without them hormonal boys. Every boy and man thinks about one thing and one thing only, sex."

Rita just scoffed. "I don't think it's limited to just males. I can make of list of girls at my school who've lost their virginity by the time they were sixteen."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Is your..." he choked again, "virginity intact?"

"For the moment," she said bluntly, munching on a fry while she watched her father's expression with fascination.

He seemed to relax. "Has your grandmother told you about...?"

"Sex? She didn't need to. I've had sex education every year of high school during health class." She ate another fry. "I'm well aware of birth control and the dangers of STD's. Don't get a heart attack over it."

"I'm trying not to," he managed. Silence ensued once more as his eyes landed on the bracelet again. "I miss your mother...every day." Rita paused. "I can imagine how you feel."

Rita bit back a comment that had no place here. "Yeah."

"I visit her grave every week."

"I don't," she admitted quietly. "I only visit once a year. I tried to move on with my life."

"It's hard, I know. You're stronger than I am."

"People only believe themselves weak. It's in their nature to feel helpless." She lowered her head. "It still doesn't excuse you for what happened. You made a choice to be weak."

"I know..."

"No, you don't!" she cried out. "You don't know! If you knew, mom would be alive and I would have never been in a cast!"

"Rita—!"

She shook her head, exhaling as the emotions built up quickly. "Please try to understand. I will always blame you for it! You made the choice! I've made mine to never forgive you! I've only just decided to trust you again because you decided to actually make an effort. That's all." She panted slightly after she went silent, ignoring the stares from other patrons. Charlie stared sadly at her and suddenly her appetite was gone. Getting up, she croaked, "I'm sorry."

"No, you're right. I deserve every bit of scorn you throw at me. Sophie would be alive if it wasn't for me." Rita watched as Charlie was close to breaking down from the realization. "And because I drank, you ended up with a broken arm. God, Rita, I'm so sorry."

Rita's eyes welled up as she stared at him. "I...I'm going home. I'll see you later."

Her mouth was dry, her eyes stung, her stomach felt nauseated, and her breath was short. By the time she was aware of her surroundings, she was already at home in her room. Ophelia was out shopping for groceries, and Wendy had gone home after breakfast. Completely alone, Rita fell onto her bed, the bracelet jingling slightly. What the hell was wrong with her? Despite everything, her father didn't deserve that. The anger and pain was just so sudden, she didn't have time to stop it. Who the hell was she trying to fool? She chose to let loose. She hadn't realized that there was still some anger bottled up. Swallowing hard, she wiped at her eyes and stood up, walking over to her desk, sitting down again. Green eyes lingered on the book. Grabbing the one Wendy gave her, she opened it and was about to write something in it, but stopped. This was a gift from her best friend. It didn't seem right to write things that upset her in it.

Sighing, she closed it back up and dragged the bigger book close to her, opening to the first page. She flipped page after page, scrutinizing the blank paper to see any evidence of writings. A quick flip followed by a painful but swift slice tore at her right index finger. Hissing in shock, she stared at the paper cut. Jesus, how deep did it go in? Finger now bleeding, she went to the first page again, accidentally spilling a drop of blood on the page as she read the riddle again. Cursing at herself, she sucked on her bleeding finger and reached for some Kleenex, hoping she could clean it up before it stained it too much.

Peering at where the blood had spilled, she blinked with confusion, finding the splatter gone. Her eyes darted back and forth, blinking a few more times, thinking she was just seeing things. Blood gone, red letters began to form on the page, startling her out of her seat, nearly stumbling to the floor.

"I'm losing my mind. That did not just happen. Or maybe it did, and it's just a book made to look old and the paper has technological properties." No matter how she tried to rationalize the event, it looked more like magic than science. "Okay, I'm just seeing things." Stepping closer, she watched the page animate words into appearance. "Oh god, words are appearing." Swallowing hard for the umpteenth time that day, she began to recite the words, "_The Tale of Little Red Riding Hood. Once upon a time, a magical red cloak was woven from velvety threads of elven hair, dyed in dragon's blood._" She sat down, curiosity bringing her to read further in her head.

"_This cloak had a young girl's destiny etched into the fabric, choosing her to be its fated wearer when darkness came to claim the world. Only she who has been chosen by the cloak would be allowed to invoke its magic, a magic so powerful that evil seeks it out and its wearer. If one with evil in their heart claims this power, darkness will reign forever and death will consume everything._" When she finished reading the first page, a new line appeared before her, confusing her completely.

_Only a child born to _Red_ can wear the cloak._

She flipped to the next page, finding nothing new coming up. Smearing a little blood on the next page, the paper absorbing it again, it still said nothing. "Oh screw you! What happens next?" Sighing, she sat back in the chair, thinking she had finally gone insane. "I'm talking to a magic book. "Only a child born to _Red_can wear the cloak. What does that mean?"

Sitting in silence, it eventually hit her, but she didn't want to make any assumptions. Anxious, she grabbed her new fountain pen, thinking perhaps if she wrote in the book, it would respond somehow. _Who is Little Red Riding Hood?_

It was quick to reply, much to her shock. _Are you certain you wish to know, Lady Reid?_

Hands shaking, she replied without needing to write, "Yes."

The only thing that changed was that _Lady Reid_ shifted to _Little Red_.

"Oh hell." She got up, pacing around the room, chanting, "I'm dreaming. It's a damn lie!" As she paced, the page casually flipped itself, more words appearing on the other side. Noticing this, she slowly approached the book. "_Only a child born to _Red_ can wear the cloak. Will you accept the destiny you chose?_" She hesitated.

Barely recalling something she had said as a child, she knew why the book had worded it that way. Perhaps she fell asleep when she came home and this was all an elaborate dream brought on by her distraught and confusion. Reid means red, she recalled her mother saying once, and once upon a time, she believed herself to be Little Red Riding Hood, but she was a typical kid with an imagination. If this wasn't a dream, she'd be making a very big mistake. Still, it was her choice.

Something beckoned her to raise the pen to the paper as she wrote, "Yes."

Suddenly, the words faded as quickly as they appeared. Ink blots began to fade into existence and drip out of the pages, an overflowing blackness that had a life of its own. As it moved towards her, she backed away, climbing onto her bed to avoid the black river messing up her carpet. Regardless, it climbed up the furniture and over the sheets. Panicking, she jumped off the bed onto clear rug and went to open her door to escape, but it would not budge.

"Oh god! No, this isn't happening!"

She pulled on the doorknob as hard as she could, only to lose her grip and fall into the animate puddle. More alive than ever, ink quickly smothered her as she struggled and shrieked, and all she knew was that she was drowning in blackness. Oddly enough, she had a song echoing in her mind before it went completely blank.

* * *

**A/N: **First chapter up for a story I've always been fascinated with but I actually never read until recently. Saw the movie with Amanda Seyfried about a year ago though. This story has the same concept as my older and longest running fanfiction FFVII: Rhapsody of Chaos. I'm still not ditching any stories currently in the making. In fact, I'm currently in the middle of writing the next chapter for House Arrest. I apologize for my delay loyal readers, lost my motivation for awhile, and my computer stopped working (I also lost all my files). I have to share my mom's and I only get the computer when she's asleep and I'm home to use it.

I will be working on four stories at the same time. First, I will be writing the next chapter for House Arrest, then FFVII: RoC, and THEN, I will be working on the first chapter for a DarkWing Duck story, starring NegaDuck. That's right! NEGADUCK, YOU KNOBS. I'm kidding, I love you guys. So look forward to that when I get to it. I have my two stories' next chapters planned out, and the NegaDuck story is still in the planning stages. I'll rotate between all four stories as I continue to write.

I appreciate all reviews, and thanks for reading.


	2. CHII Welcome to Arda

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

**CHAPTER II – Welcome to Arda**

* * *

Something smelled of...trees, lots and lots of trees. Birds were cheerfully chirping away, singing their morning song. As if she was just being born, she drew in a breath of clean air, so clean, it caused her to choke and cough, rousing her from subconscious. Rita opened her eyes once her coughing fits had stopped, staring at a grey sky. She darted her eyes around, body unmoving, noting the trees and usual wildlife, as well as the coolness on her back. Did she black out and walk outside? Rita lived in a town surrounded by some forestry, but she didn't remember ever seeing this area before. Oddly enough, she wasn't in any pain, so she didn't bump her head or anything, not that she could recall.

Slowly, she sat up, trying to get some saliva going in her mouth as it had dried. Having no success, she noticed the sound of water running. Turning to the source, she saw a running fountain, but it looked old and most of the stone was covered in moss, as the pool itself was filthy. Deciding that the water being spout out couldn't possibly be all that bad, she made her way over. She crawled at first, struggling to get to her feet without shaking any more than she already was. Barely succeeding, she reached out her hands and drank from them. Thankfully, the water was clean and she quenched her thirst before finally taking a decent look around.

She stood in a clearing, and in that clearing was the fountain, of course, and a few small cottages. However, they appeared to be abandoned and in disrepair. The roofs of most of them had either rotted away or collapsed, and the mortar had aged to the point of crumbling, causing the stone walls to fall over. Around the small ghost village was an old and high wooden fence, reinforced with stone and preventing outsiders with sharp wooden spikes at its base and on the top. Oddly, a huge gap in the fence looked as if it had been blasted inwards from the outside despite its supposed durability. Invaders, she mused.

When her eyes ran along the fence, she noticed an equally durable gate. It would be lifted up with counterweights, the thick wood planks held together by an almost decorative but effective iron framing. The counterweights however had their ropes cut, or they aged and tore apart instead. In what appeared to be the center of the town, could have been a market square, or courtyard of some sort, since the fountain was in the middle of it. Looking at the ground, Rita pushed aside fallen leaves, finding stone ground. Rita could only assume that before the attack, it was once a pretty town.

She wandered about, trying to find clues as to where she was. After an hour, she was beginning to think she was completely lost. Sighing, she sat on the fountain, feeling hungry. As she rubbed her stomach, she glanced to the spot she had awoken from, seeing something peculiar. Moving closer to take a look, she got on her knees and brushed aside the leaves, finding a stone tablet in the floor. In the middle was an intricate leaf, identical to the embedded stamp on the book Charlie gave her.

Suddenly it all came back—the book! It came to life and brought her to this place! If only she knew where this place was. Pushing away more leaves, her fingers grazed a solid object. Swallowing, she gingerly grabbed it, pulling out the notebook she got from Wendy. Why did this end up here? With it was the pen, attached by the red ribbon bookmark. Maybe she was dreaming. The logical explanation is that she came home, fell asleep and was having an elaborate dream, or she blacked out, grabbed the notebook, and went walking to some foreign area possibly miles from home and imagined the whole magic book thing.

"Great, just great. If this isn't a dream, I'm in a book...a FAIRY TALE!" she screamed suddenly, kicking at leaves and stomping her foot. Taking a moment to calm down, she fell to her knees and tearlessly wept, rubbing at her eyes from stress. "Where the hell am I?" she asked no one in particular.

The fluttering of wings didn't penetrate through her senses until a small child-like voice spoke, "Don't despair, perhaps we can help you find your way."

Slowly, she raised her head, turning to see little colourful glowing fairies with transparent and sparkly bug wings continuously fluttering about. They looked like thin little naked children without any naughty bits and their eyes, if one looked closely enough, were large and typically pixie-like, with the pupils thin like cats. Rita, still uncertain whether this was a dream or not, shrieked. Surprised, the fairies covered their ears and backed off considerably, hiding behind the fountain.

"I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming," Rita chanted, trying to crawl away.

Thinking she was at least calm enough to not scream at them again, the fairies flew out, flying in front of her to get her attention. "We saw you were crying, and thought we could help. Please don't be frightened, please tell us what the matter is."

What was the matter? There were a few things the matter that Rita could easily list from the top of her head. "I got a stupid magic book for my birthday, it swallowed me whole and spit me out here. Now I don't know where I am, or how I'm going to get home. The only thing I know, is that the book accused me of being Red Riding Hood," the fairies looked at one another as she continued, "and I'm a little stressed at the moment because I don't know if I'm dreaming!"

"Please wait a moment," one fairy said before the flock of them flew away a small distance, huddling together, whispering in their already small voices. Rita just watched them, bewildered and trembling. After a few moments, they flew back. "We will take you to the elves. They will explain everything to you."

"Elves?" Things just keep getting better, Rita thought sarcastically.

"What name do you go by, miss?"

"Rita...Rita Reid," she muttered, finally starting to absorb the situation.

"Miss Rita, please follow us. The elves are not far from here."

They flew off, pausing, waiting for Rita to follow them. Not having much of a choice, she got to her feet, using calming breaths. Casually, she walked after them through the destroyed part of the fence, barely managing to climb over the spikes without killing herself. After walking for an hour in the forest, Rita was beginning to doubt the fairies' sense of direction, making her somewhat cranky.

"Are we there yet?" she asked irritably.

"Only another minute or two away, Miss Rita."

Rita's annoyance softened slightly, before she sighed. "I'm sorry for being put out; I've had a bad day. Thanks...for helping me."

"We understand, and no need to thanks us. Coming to a strange place would make anyone upset."

She nodded. "Where am I anyway?"

"You're in Arda; it's divided into four regions—Yavi'thil, Hriv'len, Eht'omi, and Lair'nar."

"What?" Rita asked, unable to recall the names instantly. "Arda? What is Arda?"

The fairies giggled, "It's a world of magic, silly! It's Elven for Earth."

She watched them, trying to absorb the information. A little lightbulb clicked on in her head before she suddenly opened up her notebook, writing down little notes for future reference if she needed it. That raised another question. How was it she had the notebook? Did the magic book swallow it as well? It didn't matter though as she had thought of a perfect use for the gifts. If she was going to stick around longer than she hoped, she could at least record her experience.

"Which of the four regions are we in then?"

"We're in Yavi'thil. The elves' domain is close by!"

The fairies excitedly spiralled through the air as they led Rita to a waterfall. Amazed at the sheer beauty of it, she could barely pry her eyes away when the fairies started urging her towards the descending water. Confused, but going with it, she followed them, noting a path that aimed directly through the water. Since it was only water, she ventured through as quickly as possible if only to spare her book. The sprites sped through as well, shaking off droplets and jingling slightly. Rita took down her hair, wringing it out, leaving it to dry before she noticed a tunnel in front of her that lead further into the earth. The torches on the stone walls were lit by blue fire, which amazed her to some degree.

Further and further down they went, but Rita never once had any trouble breathing, which seemed odd to her, as it was an underground tunnel. Finally, they all reached a wall decorated with a carved mural. Rita walked up to it, unable to believe that she had just wasted her time just to come to a wall. Still, intrigued by the carvings, she traced her hand over them, only to leap back in surprise when it reacted to her touch, the mural turning into a wall of calm water, and peering through it, one could see little lights.

One of the fairies beckoned her as the others went through without hesitation. "Come on!" And they too, flew through the wall.

For a moment, she hesitated. As quickly as she had with the waterfall, she ran through, surprised to find herself completely dry. "Magic is cool," she mumbled.

Turning around, she gasped. The cavern was huge, riddled with large tree roots from the world above. Within those roots were rope bridges, fancy treehouses, aqueducts, a colourful variety of flowers, fireflies, and blue fire lanterns. How was one supposed to find their way in a place like this?

"Wow," she managed while in a daze.

"No time to dawdle, Miss Rita. You must be brought to the Elf Queen."

Rita couldn't help feeling like she walked into a Lord of the Rings scene. Regardless, she followed the fairies, trying to resist the urge to stare at the elves she passed. All of them were beautiful, fair, thin and...tall. They all had long hair and wore light-coloured robes, and the typical pointed ears, but they were close to four inches long, and their eyes were always light-coloured like their clothes. Rita never cared much for her looks, but she felt oddly envious of the elves and how ethereal they appeared. What was even stranger was that they didn't seem disturbed by her presence. Perhaps visitors came here often.

She was out of breath by the time they reached the small palace doors. Protests were emitted from her when the sprites tried to push her towards them. One of the guards in blinding silver armour turned to Rita. "State your business, human."

The boom of his voice had caused her to jump before she cried out, "The fairies brought me here! I don't know why, but they apparently think I need to see your queen. Don't kill me?"

The elf knight arched a slender brow, turning to the other guard who merely stared back. He turned his attention back on her. "Wait here." He left, and Rita stood there uneasily, sensing the second guard's eyes on her. After a few moments, the first guard returned. "Come with me."

Swallowing, Rita just did as she was told. This feeling of nervousness was nothing compared to how she felt on her birthday. Led through gorgeous hallways and past other guards, she was eventually brought to a throne room of white marble and glass. At the very end of the room was the throne, and on that fancy piece of furniture was by far the most gorgeous of the elves. Her majesty, the Elf Queen, sat delicately, wearing fitting white robes that was beautiful and modest, showing her regal status. Her pure black hair was long and ruler straight, making Rita imagine that if this woman stood, the tips of her hair would barely caress the floor. Her crown was made from silver and pearls, designed to look like tree roots, weaving perfectly together and her lips were painted with a dark red. However, none of this mattered, as the only thing Rita was fixated on was her perfectly shaped eyes. They were like glittery and electric green jewels, able to pierce into your soul, framed by thick lashes.

She raised one perfect slender hand, beckoning Rita to come closer. "Do not fear, child. You will not be harmed." Rita did so, as if enchanted by the queen's obvious warmth. "What name do you go by?"

And suddenly, Rita's inhibitions were gone. "Rita Reid."

"Reid," the queen repeated, "It means _red_, does it not?"

"How did you...?"

"As queen of the elves, it is part of my job to know everything I can." She stood up, a full foot taller than Rita. "I am Queen Arella, ruler and high priestess. Lady Rita, I have been expecting you for some time."

Rita blinked. "Expecting me? For what?"

Arella smiled softly. "Come with me. I am certain that you have many questions."

Rita could only follow the queen through a set of doors behind the throne. "I do have lots of questions. Like, how did I get here, and where exactly is here? Why am I here?"

"These are difficult questions indeed. You came across a book, correct? One with a leaf on its cover."

"Yeah, I got it for my birthday from my dad. When I opened it, it was completely blank, except for an inscription."

"_Spill a drop of what once was blue_," Arella recited as if to confirm.

"Yeah!"

"You discovered the meaning of the riddle, and now you are here."

"Yeah. I didn't intend to give it my blood, but I got a papercut while flipping through the pages."

Arella didn't say anything for a moment. "The book you encountered is one of four. Each book has a different symbol on its cover. What you have is the Book of Yavi'thil. That book is a gateway between your world, and Arda, specifically Yavi'thil. Simply put, both worlds are connected by these books."

Slowly, Rita nodded. "So...I'm not inside a book? Just brought here by one?"

The queen chortled some, "Yes. You see, those books do not allow just anyone to travel through them, they are bound to one person alone. The Book of Yavi'thil is bound to you, Lady Rita. You're here as proof. The Fay that guided you here has told me of your origins." Rita looked around, having forgotten about the fairies. "It is without a doubt that are the one foretold by my predecessor."

"Foretold? Hold on, what are we talking about here?"

Before Arella answered, she pushed open another set of doors, revealing another white room, though darkened, in the center of the room, moonlight shone through a skylight of sorts upon a curious piece of fabric. Rita's eyes landed on a red velvety cloak, and her entire body went still. Its fabric shimmered, the hood was slightly pointed like a witch cloak, and a small black Elven trimming was sewn at its edges, including the hood. It looked beautiful, but something about it drew Rita to it without her realizing it.

"What is this?" Part of her feared the answer she already knew.

"It is the famed cloak you yourself are very familiar with, Lady Rita."

"But it can't be," Rita muttered in denial. "It's just a story."

"A story you believed in. I assure you, the story of that little girl is not just a fairy tale, however inaccurate. Every story holds a certain amount of truth to them. Sometimes they are just fragments of what has passed, or signs of what has yet to come." Arella stepped up behind Rita, placing a cool hand on her shoulder. "Your destiny lies with this cloak. All your life, have you not felt as if you were meant for more than the life you had led up till now?"

Quietly, Rita said, "Yes." Sighing, she leaned on the pedestal. "The book...it called me Little Red. I just don't believe it. Why me?"

Arella could only sigh, trying to find the words. "The cloak had chosen you, and naturally, you have felt an attachment to the tale itself without knowing that it was you the tale speaks of. You and the cloak are bound by fate." When Rita said nothing, Arella decided that she would need time. "Come. You must be famished. I will have someone bring you proper attire."

* * *

The room Rita was given was just as luxurious as everywhere else. Most furniture was made of wood from the tree roots, and the bed was the cushiest thing she had ever slept on. Still, sleep was not coming easily. She was fed, and she had bathed, dressing in silver robes. While she waited for sleep to come, she had written notes in her book, trying to keep her mind off the cloak.

_To whomever reads this:_

_In the possible event that I never return home and this notebook makes it way there somehow, I only wish to say that I'm sorry to my best friend, Wendy, and my grandmother, Ophelia. I never meant to leave you two behind. I would have been content leading the same life, but something compelled me to reach out to the book my father gave me. I hope that my entries in this notebook will serve to warn any who come in contact with any of the Books of Arda._

_It was explained to me that these books connect two parallel worlds, Earth and Arda. Arda is a world of fantasy, and supposedly, fairies and elves exist. However, each book only works for one person, in this case, the brown book probably still lying on my desk only works for me. It sounds crazy even as I'm writing it down, that the Elf Queen believes me to be Little Red Riding Hood. I thought it was just a story, but apparently, it's a foretelling of my future._

_If anyone comes across this notebook, please take my warning to heart. Don't go looking for those books. You may just end up stuck here like me._

* * *

The quarter moon was bright, and the fog was thick in this part of Yavi'thil's forest. The sound of hooves thundered along the dirt path, hooded knights in black armour riding atop the steeds, their path lit only by the orange lanterns they carried. A black carriage made of silver followed closely behind, bars on the windows. Every now and then, the carriage would rattle side to side, a low growl emanating from inside. Finally, the mobile cage tipped over, bringing the horses with it as they cried out. The escort riders stopped as the carriage would shake, banging heard from inside.

One rider pointed to two others. "Gather everyone to set the carriage right. We will not lose this beast just because he's trying to be clever."

"Yes sir," they both said before shouting orders.

The black hoods gathered at one side, preparing to lift it over, only to back away when a large black wolf snout snarled and barked through the bars. They resumed their positions when the snout retreated into the blackness of the cage. Moments later, while in mid-lift, a human arm reached through, grabbing one rider and pulling them into the vehicle to knock them out. Holding onto deadweight, it threw the limp body at another knight. As the knights scattered to avoid further assault, the Captain of the squadron cursed, riding over to the source of the commotion.

"You're not getting out of there, Wolfe, until we reach the city, where you'll be put into a cell smaller than that carriage, and then executed."

Clawed fingers tapped in thought as a voice was emitted. "We'll see if you can hold out till then, Captain. Honestly, the lengths you're going to are quite admirable. I must commend you for your efforts. Unfortunately, I don't plan on staying in here all night, and though you all have been hospitable, I'll enjoy devouring you all."

The dark promise in the tone sent a chill down the Captain's back. "You're a sick bastard, Wolfe. I'll be sure to have the executioner prolong your suffering."

Now a laugh echoed out, "Will you? It's a shame I won't be around long enough to receive that honour. Then again, neither will you. After all, one of those guards had a glove on them."

With that, the opposite arm, now gloved, reached out, grabbing the silver chain and pulling on it till it snapped. Panicked, the Captain yelled out orders to stop his escape. Crossbows at the ready, they aimed at the door, and the door kicked open, a black blur coming out, dodging the bolts. When it finally landed, it stood tall on all fours, a large black wolf, sleek and powerful in form. Slowly, he turned, eyes aimed on his prey. It was the eyes that told men how dangerous he was. The whites were black and his irises were the colour of luminescent blue moons, glowing in the dark and piercing through the thickness of fog. His growl was low and foreboding, allowing the men to picture themselves being mangled before it would happen. That was the power of a werewolf, to instil fear in their victims before they were consumed.

As the wolf spoke, it was rough with the anticipation of dinner, and the fury of having been captured and imprisoned, "You humans never learn, do you? Now you'll pay the price for your ignorance."

He leapt, pouncing on the closest soldier with the man screaming. Sharp teeth clamped on his throat, ripping out his vocal chords and killing him. One ear flicked upwards and like a blur, moved to the side to avoid being shot by an arrow bolt. He growled, looking behind him. Before the man could reload, Wolfe was already on him, grabbing him by the shoulder and tossing him to the ground multiple times like a dog roughing up a toy. Letting go, he dodged more bolts, knocking down a few as he blurred from one place to the next. Finally he stopped, watching as they formed a circle around him. He chuckled, as if that would stop him.

It took only a moment at most for him to deal with the leftovers. Eyes narrowed, ears high, he watched their trigger fingers slowly squeeze as he listened for the telltale mechanisms that he heard oh so clearly. One click was all he needed to jump into the air as they all fired on one another. Most wounded, they went to reload their crossbows as he laughed, watching them while they stumbled over their weapons.

He turned to the Captain. "You sent sheep to the slaughter, Captain. I was expecting experienced hunters and soldiers, not fools. How shameful. Despite all your silver and preparations, you still can't manage to hold me."

"Damn you, Wolfe!" cursed the Captain, drawing his sword.

"Yes," Wolfe said, "Damn me, cage me, insult me, make an example of me, but you will never kill me!"

Zipping around, blood sprayed across the ground as he ripped out throats, took off heads and ate their hearts out, enjoying the screams that burst forth. The Captain was the last man to stand, and he'd be the quickest to fall. Wolfe stalked towards the soldier, only to have a sword swung at his face as he leaned side to side to avoid each strike, snapping his jaws and barking at the Captain. He jumped back then jumped forward again, shedding fur and changing to that of a naked man as he thrust outstretched claws forward, right through the Captain's chest before he could strike the werewolf down.

As the Captain choked on his blood and dropped his sword, Wolfe leaned in with a fanged smile, whispering in his ear, "You could never kill me. You're nothing."

With that, he removed his arm, allowing the Captain to fall to his knees then forward onto the ground, bleeding out profusely. Wolfe stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Changing back into the wolf, he feasted on the bodies, specifically their hearts. Turning back into the man, he wiped off the blood using water from their canteens, and then put on a pair of pants, boots, and a loose shirt he had a mind to remove before mangling his food. After getting dressed, he took all their money, his hungry appetite satisfied. Wolfe set off for the next town, venturing into the thick fog and disappearing, thinking of satisfying his thirst and sexual appetite with alcohol and a whore. All that could be heard in the fog was the whistling of a telltale tune, leaving behind the sight of death.

* * *

Rita sat upright in bed with a gasp, panting and sweating, hair stuck to her face. Remembering where she was, she rubbed at her face to wipe at the moisture. She heard a knock on the door as Arella let herself in, a set of clothes in her arms. What an odd queen, Rita thought.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," she said, getting out of bed.

Arella walked towards a table, placing the clothes upon it. "Restless night?" Rita nodded. "Come, share breakfast with me, and I will tell you all I can."

The dining room had a long table, able to seat at least fifty people. However, since it was just Rita and the queen dining, the room looked empty. In front of Rita was what looked like an assortment of fruits and vegetables. They looked so strange though and Rita had never seen them before. There was bread though, so at least she recognized something.

"Um," Rita began, trying to form a polite way of asking, "are elves vegetarians?"

Arella smiled, quite amused by the girl's confusion from the lack of meat on the table. "We are, to some extent, yes. We are not opposed to eating meat if necessary, though."

The girl only nodded. "So, what if I am Red Riding Hood? What am I supposed to do? Frolic about through the forest until I find the yellow brick road, click my shoes together and say, 'there's no place like home?'"

Arella stared at her for a moment. Shaking her head, she said, "Do you know what the cloak is made from?"

"Velvet?"

Arella shook her head again. "It was made three-hundred years ago from the hair of my predecessor, the previous queen and priestess. She was also a great wielder of magic, blessing each individual strand with the power of the moon. However, to have great power, one must balance it. After the hair had been woven into a cloak, it was brought to the dragons."

Rita's eyes widened. "Dragons exist?"

"Very much so. However, they remain hidden from the world, content to be in their caves and mountains." Elegantly, Arella popped a green grape into her mouth. "As I was saying, wherever there is light, there must be darkness. The moon is the epitome of both. When brought to the dragons, one of them offered their blood to complete the cloak, giving it life when it was dyed red."

"What happened then?" Rita asked quietly, intrigued by this version of the story she thought she knew so well.

"Evil came," Arella replied, a foreboding tone to her voice. "Shadows of monsters sprang forth, tempted by the very power the cloak holds. The biggest monster of all was the Wolf King, Draug. Greedy and powerful, he was. He was considered the most powerful werewolf of all, until his downfall." Rita just stared. "When he tried to take the cloak for himself, a warrior known as Lowell, a simple woodcutter, struck him down. However, as the Wolf King fell into a chasm, he took that poor young man with him to their death."

Rita exhaled. "That...sucks. He won the fight and still died?"

Arella smiled. "Lowell was just a man, a man very loyal to the Elf Priestess. She was the cloak's guardian, and he was hers. He knew the cost of fighting Draug. If the Wolf King had succeeded, he would be very powerful, especially now that you have arrived."

The brunettes eyebrows burrowed in confusion. "I don't understand."

Arella ate another grape. "You see, the cloak had chosen only one to use its power, and that is you. If he imprisoned you, you would have been forced to do whatever he wished." She sighed. "I cannot tell you much more than this, for it is not my place to explain every detail. All I can say is that with you wearing the cloak, this land, which is still riddled with shadows, will need your help."

"You act like I have to save the world, but what am I supposed to be saving it from?"

Arella shook her head. "That is the problem. I do not know, but something is very wrong in this age. Death is constant in these lands, creating chaos and despair among those who are overcome with fear and poverty. If you chose to accept this task, I warn you that the journey will be long, and full of much danger. I can only do so much to prepare you for the road ahead."

For a long time, Rita just forked at her food, completely silent. What was one stuck in a fantasy world to do? "What am I supposed to do?"

Arella arched a brow, "You will do it?"

"I don't have much of a choice. I have to find my way home somehow, and this may be the only way to find out how I can get home. Granted, the idea is stupid, and I made the stupid mistake of saying yes to a damn book that brought me here, and I'm scared of the idea of running into werewolves or whatever the threats are in this world. Still, I don't have a choice. Me sitting around and doing nothing isn't going to get me home."

"You're ready to wear the cloak then." Rita raised her eyes to meet Arella's. "Then it's time."

* * *

Rita wasn't just scared, she was bloody terrified! Having returned to her room to bathe and change into the new clothes that Arella had provided her earlier, she looked at herself in the mirror. Rita briefly wondered if Arella had predicted that Rita would decide to travel as the clothes seemed appropriate for such with an Elven touch to it.

The wore dark brown tights tucked into knee high lace-up brown boots with half-inch heels. The white shirt she wore was slightly loose, the sleeves slightly poofed on the forearms like pears. The bodice was slightly forming, the center of the bodice buttoned together with little silver leafs. Overtop was a grey wool dress, serving as an under-bodice corset, black buttons on the front with the skirt reaching the knees. Arella seemed to have also put aside a curious beige suede purse aside. She put it on, the long strap going over her head to rest on her left shoulder, and a belt attached to the back of the purse to buckle around her hips as the pouch lay on her right hip.

Placing her notebook in the pouch, she left the room and headed for the throne room. Arella was already waiting for her, a fairy glittering of warm orange light flying next to her. "Lady Rita, I wish to have someone accompany you on your journey. This is Felix."

Rita turned her eyes to the fairy boy. Unlike the other fairies she met, this one wore something of a brown tunic. He had messy brown hair and orange eyes. If he were full sized and human, he'd probably appear the age of a fifteen year old. Around his thin waste was a string for a belt and a tiny dagger hanging from it in a sheath. His wings didn't appear typically like bug wings, but a combination of butterfly and bat wings in terms of shape.

His voice was small and high pitched but Rita could differentiate his gender from it. "Hello Rita! I'm Felix! I'll be your guide on your journey."

Awkwardly, Rita poked out a pinkie finger to shake hands with the sprite. "Hello. So," she began, looking at Arella, "where exactly am I going first?"

"You will be going to see Samael. Once you see him, you must tell him who you are and he shall give you the rest of the details of what you must do. He will tell you the next step. Supplies have been prepared for you as well." Seeing the obvious doubt in Rita's forlorn expression, the queen reached up, placing a gentle hand on the girl's cheek. "I have every bit of faith in you. Just don't lose sight of your goal."

Rita said nothing but followed Arella all the way to the cloak's chamber, eyes instantly on the cloak. Felix was already buzzing around next to her, wings fluttering some. Arella turned to Rita expectantly, watching her intently. Slowly, Rita walked towards the pedestal, standing in the light that shone through the ceiling. Why was her heart beating so fast? It's a stupid piece of fabric, she inwardly told herself. Just to get it over with, she reached out with both hands, gingerly touching the velvet with a shaky intake of breath. Finally, she took it from the bust it hung upon and tossed it around her shoulders. Tying it in place, she slowly pulled the hood over her head.

After a long moment, Rita said, "I was kind of expecting something."

Arella angled her head slightly. "How so?"

"I don't feel any different. I was expecting some kind of whoosh, gust of wind or something."

Arella chuckled. "I suppose even mystic cloaks do not delve into theatrics." She stepped forward, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "How do you feel though?"

Inhaling deeply, Rita muttered, "Nervous."

"Who could ever blame you? Before you set off, be wary of dark strangers. Werewolves can take the form of men. There are two ways to tell them apart from people. First, they will have blue or silver eyes that shine like moons. Second, their fangs are slightly longer. And lastly, though this is not a deciding factor, they will always have fit bodies. Wolves are physically strong, so they will appear that way in their human forms."

She nodded. "Do they have...weaknesses?"

"They have very few, but silver is most effective at keeping them at bay. You may want to take extra care during your cycle though. Their sense of smell is unmatched by any other creature." Rita gulped before Arella handed her a small pouch. "Take this. Silver dust will weaken them long enough for you to get away."

"I don't get a weapon?"

Arella smiled mysteriously. "You won't need one."

Rita blinked but said nothing more as she took the supplies given to her and was on her way out of the Elven caverns. Felix flew close by, bounding through the air excitedly. After leaving through the waterfall, she sat by the pool of water to dry off for the time being, taking the pre-break to write another entry in her notebook.

_Day two:_

_I decided to accept being Little Red Riding Hood and do whatever I need to all for the sake of getting home. Still, I can't help being fascinated with this world. The home of the elves was a beautiful place and the queen was very kind to take me in during my short time there. I was disappointed that nothing happened when I put on the cloak, despite the story of it supposedly being magical. Maybe I thought it would give me the answers I'm looking for. It doesn't matter though._

_Arella introduced me to a fairy named Felix. She said he would take me to Samael, who apparently can explain my destiny. Felix is a cheerful little and cute little thing. Maybe this journey won't be so bad. I was warned of werewolves and how they trick their prey with human forms. If my journey loosely follows the fairy tale, should I expect to meet the Big Bad Wolf? From what I gathered from Arella's story, werewolves are cruel monsters, killing for pleasure as well as food. Hopefully I won't end up on the menu._

She made some dot jots of information before closing the book. She looked at Felix who had been waiting patiently by laying on the rock beside her to sunbathe. "Ready to go, Felix?"

His large eyes opened and he sat up, flying into the air. "Ready when you are."

She stood, and made her way, following after the sprite since he knew the way. For hours they walked and walked with Felix asking her all sorts of questions about her world, and Rita returning the same questions to learn about Arda. As sunset approached, Rita began to get the feeling she was being watched. Her fairy guide seemed quiet as well, standing on her shoulder as he peered around.

"I'm getting a bad feeling," Rita said. "Please tell me that it's just me being paranoid."

"I wish I could," Felix replied with a whisper. "I think we're being followed. You might want to prepare to run."

The rustling of a bush nearby caused her to stop. Out came a wolf, licking their chops. Soon, more came out of hiding from the trees, growling hungrily. "Are these...?" she began to ask nervously.

Felix gulped. "They're just regular wolves, but in a pack like this, they're just as dangerous. Oh dear, and they look hungry too."

Rita had to decide quickly what to do. She had no experience or knowledge on how to get away from hungry wolves. Noticing a break in their formation, she decided to chance it. Running suddenly, she ran between and past two wolves, both attempting to take a chomp out of her legs and barely missing. Now there was a chase, wolves following closely behind Rita as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her, cloak flying behind her while Felix held onto her shoulder for dear life.

She didn't want to look behind her. If she did, it could mean the end of her. Still, her lungs and muscles not used to the exertion were about to give out, though it didn't matter as she skidded to a halt, nearly falling over. In front of her was a large rock wall, too smooth to attempt climbing. Rita turned with a panic towards the beasts that had easily caught up to her, now stalking towards her. She backed up into a wall, preparing for the end.

Felix flew into the air, glowing more brightly. "I won't go down without a fight!" With that, he shook and sent a few streams of orange glittery light, blinding some of the wolves but otherwise not doing any damage. "Oh no, my magic isn't working!" His little bottom lip trembled but he kept trying, blasting them in the faces until he could blast no more, falling from exhaustion.

Rita caught him, silently commending him for his effort. As hard as she tried, she still couldn't think of a way to get out of this. There was no branch within reach, and she didn't know enough about the cloak to make use of it. Great, she thought, beginning of the journey, and she already failed. While she prepared to be pounced upon, one of the wolves seemed distracted, looking behind them before waltzing off with a growl. Pretty soon the other wolves seemed to smell something off, both Rita and Felix becoming confused.

Rita's eyes stared into the darkness of the trees, hearing two separate growls and then a single yelp. She shrieked and cringed out of the way as the wolf that had gone to investigate was suddenly thrown at the wall, throat torn out and dead. She stared unblinkingly at the corpse before the wolves growled at the darkness. A man stepped out, blood on his clawed fingers as he turned his intense blue eyes to Rita's own green pools. She watched him with fascination and Felix hid in her hood, obviously frightened by this stranger.

Wolfe angled his head, intrigued by the young woman. "How interesting."

* * *

**A/N: **I know I said I would rotate between four stories, but I decided that until I reread FFVII: RoC and re-record some notes on it, as well as figure out what I'm writing for my Negaduck story, I'll just rotate between this and House Arrest. For this story I want to make each chapter at least 5000 words or more. So far both have been over 6000 words. Now, I'm sure readers are wondering what certain terms mean, for example, the names of the four regions. To be honest, I just used an Elvish translator as it would be a pain in the ass for me to make up elvish sounding names and/or creating a new language. Here's a list of translations.

Arda - "Earth"  
Yavi'thil - Combined "Yavie" and "Ithil" meaning "Autumn Moon"  
Hriv'len - Combined "Hrive" and "Elen" meaning "Winter Star"  
Eht'omi - Combined "Ehtele'" and "Loomi" meaning "Spring Cloud"  
Lair'nar - Combined "Laire" and "Enar" meaning "Summer Sun"  
Draug - "Wolf"

I don't know how pronunciations work in the Elvish language, so you're free to pronounce those however you like. Anyway, next RRH chapter is Wolfe's proper introduction. Thank you for reading and I appreciate any reviews.


	3. CHIII Big Bad Wolfe

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

* * *

**CHAPTER III – Big Bad Wolfe**

The stench of blood filled Rita's senses, but it didn't tear her eyes away from this stranger. With long and straight black hair, it reached the small of his back, layered and wild. His face had a strong jaw covered in black stubble and thick eyebrows that were perfectly arched over the most intense blue eyes Rita had ever seen, like moons, she mused. His skin was slightly tanned and his lips were not too thick or too thin. His cheekbones were high but they did not stick out too much. Also, his not too large nose was somewhat pointed with the bridge sticking out ever so slightly. To put it simply, his face just seemed chiselled with a hint of animalistic charisma radiating from his thin but muscular figure.

Felix noticed the dazed look in Rita's eyes, tapping her cheek as hard as he could to snap her out of it. "What are you looking at?! That's a werewolf!"

That got her attention. "What? He is?" Nobody told her that werewolves could look so attractive! No wonder they were dangerous.

Wolfe just smiled toothily, seemingly quite amused as he revealed his fangs. "How interesting. I go looking for sheep and I find a lamb."

Heat rose to her cheeks at the metaphor and the dark masculine tone of his voice. His attention was quickly brought to the pack of wolves currently growling at him. Expression sober, he walked towards one, swiftly delivering a boot to its jaw, punting it into a tree. Rita wondered why a werewolf would attack regular wolves. Weren't they technically kin?

Wolfe stopped, having surrounded himself with his lesser brethren. "Sorry boys, but this lamb doesn't belong to you."

Two of the beasts pounced and he simply grabbed them, knocking them together and throwing them both aside. He grinned, eyes glimmering with amusement as the rest went to attack him. Moving to the left, he dodged another vicious pounce, doing the same as he moved to the right. Finally, his amusement had reached its limit and he punched one across the mouth as it went for his own face, and kicked another as it went for his leg. Catching one by the muzzle, he tore out its throat with his claws, and caught another, ripping off its lower jaw.

He growled loudly, stopping the wolves in their tracks, even making them back up as his eyes glowed ferociously like blue fire. The beasts backed up, ears low, before they ran off into the trees, away from who was obviously the alpha male. Wolfe stood up straight, licking his fingers clean of the blood, claws retracted into normal fingernails. He turned to where Rita had stood, only to find that she was gone. Blinking in surprise, he glanced around, and then took a long sniff of the air.

"Come on, Rita! We got to get as far away as possible!" Felix cried out, flitting away as Rita ran after him.

"I don't get it! Why would he kill wolves if he's one himself?" she asked breathlessly.

"What does it matter? He's going to eat us unless we can get to some place he can't find us!"

"I don't eat bugs," came a voice. Rita ran around a tree, walking into Wolfe before emitting a short scream, stumbling backwards. "Whoa there," he said, catching her around the waist before she could expect impact with the ground.

"Rita!" Felix cried, zipping back and sending less-than-lethal fairy blasts at the back of Wolfe's head. "Get away from her!"

Wolfe barely felt them, but turned an annoyed look to the fairy. Before Felix could fly out of reach, Wolfe flicked at the sprite. "Fuck off, you little insect. Is it so wrong to have a friendly chat with the lady here?"

"Felix!" Rita cried out as her companion went flying. She turned to look at Wolfe, swallowing hard. "Please don't eat me!"

Wolfe could only chuckle. "Eat you? Now why would I do that?" Much to Rita's surprise, he released her.

"Because you're a werewolf?" she said with uncertainty.

"Ha! Now that, my little lamb, is stereotyping." He grinned wolfishly, waving a finger at her accusingly. "Shame on you for that." He clicked his tongue, his eyes gauging her. "Tell me, why is a lamb, accompanied by a bug, walking in the woods? Wearing a vivid red cape where bandits and thugs can easily spot you?"

She swallowed, leaning against a tree, watching him with wide eyes. "I'm...going somewhere."

"Somewhere is a very large place. You'll have to narrow that down a bit."

Deciding to be bold, Rita straightened her back, face showing defiance. "That's none of your business."

What was with this girl, Wolfe wondered. Smiling ever so slightly, he stepped forward, placing a hand on the tree above her head and the other on his hip. "I was only asking," he said quietly. "Still, for someone who nearly lost her life, you're very ungrateful to your hero. Don't I at least get a thanks, or some other form of reward?"

Rita swallowed. This man was right though. She would have been dead right now if he had not come along. "Thank you for saving our lives," she said quietly.

"Who said I was saving the bug's life?"

"Fairy," she corrected.

"Bug," he insisted. "Besides, a simple thank you isn't enough now that you've gone and hurt my feelings."

She shrunk away from him, but the hand that was on his hip moved to a spot on the tree beside her. "What do you want? I don't have anything of value."

"Oh, I don't require much. A kiss would satisfy me." She visibly blushed but said nothing as he leaned forward. "Just relax."

She swallowed then turned her head away, her knee flying upwards into his balls. "I don't think so, you pervert!"

Quickly, she slipped away, Wolfe utterly still from the pain before releasing a cough, mouth wide open. He fell to his knees, trying to catch his breath. After awhile, the pain subsided and he managed a growl. Meanwhile, Rita had found Felix, who was just flying back and ran off with him.

"How'd you get away?!"

She hesitated to answer but said, "He's still a guy." Felix blinked but didn't pry further. Rita ran into a forest clearing, leaves barely showing the sky. She looked around, not knowing which direction to go as there was no discernable path. "Where do we go from here?!"

The fairy flew up above the trees, coming back down moments later. "This way!"

Before Rita could follow after him, she ran into something solid that wasn't there before, this time falling on the ground. When she looked up to see Wolfe, she frantically crawled backwards from him. "No! Get away from me!"

He didn't look pleased. "I'll have you know, I'm still in quite a bit of pain, missy." He growled, eyes flashing dangerously. "You could have gotten away without a scratch, but you just had to go and piss me off, didn't you?" He stalked towards her, swatting away the attacking fairy. "You're either very brave, or very stupid. I suppose lamb chops will have to do." Suddenly he was on top of her, baring his teeth as she screamed. "You don't have a lot of meat on you, but you still look oh so tender."

Before he could sink his teeth into her throat, she slapped him with a fistful of silver dust. He rolled off, yelling out in pain as he was temporarily blinded, his face stinging. Rita stumbled to her feet. "Felix!"

Felix stood up as well, shaking about to right himself. "I'm okay! Let's get out of here!"

"I don't think so!" Wolfe declared, growling as he stood straight. "I'll be sure to kill you slowly, girl. You'll feel every inch of my fangs and claws!"

As he quickly charged her, Rita curled into a ball with a shriek, expecting the worst as Felix cried out to her. Suddenly, the cloak shimmered and just before he could land a claw on her, he was violently repelled by a red barrier with shock, sending him flying into a tree, nearly snapping it in half. Rita raised her head and stared in disbelief. Just as shocked, Wolfe struggled to stand, eyes wide as he stared at Rita.

"What the hell?" he muttered. "What kind of girl are you?"

Felix started bobbing in the air, taunting the werewolf with a shake of his arse. "She's Red Riding Hood, you dumb dog! The chosen one of Yavi'thil!"

At first, Wolfe laughed. "You must be joking. That's a myth." He took another glance at Rita before his eyes narrowed. "It must be!" Enraged that he failed to touch her, he tried again, only to hit the same tree, this time knocking it over. He coughed up blood, growling viciously, "Why?! Why can't I reach you?!"

Rita couldn't answer as she didn't know either. Wolfe, furious, took another charge, but this time it was different as he hit the barrier. Though it made several attempts to send him flying back, he resisted, determined to kill the one inside as he yelled out as the skin on his fingers broke open from the stress, blood spraying on his face.

Somehow, this bothered Rita. "Why?! You're only hurting yourself!"

He growled, ignoring her completely. Regardless, the result was the same as he crashed into another tree. Face burning, hand torn and agonized, he got up, half-blind from both the silver and his fury. Rita stood up even as he charged her once more, crying out for him to stop. As if reacting to her feelings, her cloak began to glow a bright red, wind blowing through her clothes out of nowhere as a single thread unravelled itself and flew towards Wolfe, wrapping around his right middle finger, the other end of the thread wrapping around the same digit on Rita's hand.

Before he could land the blow, his body froze with a painful pulse, stopping him in his tracks. He couldn't breathe or move until he simply fell to the ground. Rita stared at him for a moment but raised her hand to stare at the thread, disappearing and being replaced by a gold band with a diagonal princess cut ruby in the middle. She looked at his hand, and the same thing happened.

"Are you okay?" Felix asked, landing on her shoulder.

She nodded, swallowing some as she stared at Wolfe. "What happened?"

"This must be one of the cloak's powers! Is he dead?" asked the sprite.

"Don't count on it," Wolfe warned from the ground, Felix squeaking in fear and taking refuge in Rita's hood. "What sorcery is this?"

Rita took a step back as the man struggled to his feet. "It's the cloak...I don't know what it does yet."

Wolfe chuckled without any humour, glaring at the ring before attempting to remove it. "The fuck is this? It won't come off!" He growled, but decided it didn't matter. He redirected his glare towards Rita and went to lash out at her with a snarl, but he froze again like before, eyes wide. "What...is this?" he managed.

Felix poked his head out. "The rings must prevent him from hurting you, Rita. The cloak saved you!"

"That would make sense, but what does that mean exactly?"

"Maybe he's your slave now," the sprite offered.

"Slave?!" Wolfe yelled out, lifting his head. With much effort, he managed to stand, but instead of attempting another attack, he merely got in Rita's face. "I'm no one's slave. I don't care how magical that rag is, you got me!?"

Rita could only back up slightly, raising her eyebrows. "Not my words."

"Then your pet bug can kiss my ass," Wolfe snarled. He stood up straight, straightening his shirt with his bleeding hand before turning to walk away.

Rita swallowed, taking a quick glance at his hand. Ignoring Felix's vigorous shake of his head, she called out, "Your hand—I have bandages."

Wolfe stopped to glare over his shoulder. "My hand will heal. Unlike you humans, we werewolves are not slow healers."

"It might get infected," she insisted.

He laughed, turning to face her with dark mockery on his visage. "And why do you care so much? I just tried to kill you."

Felix zipped out, pointing with an accusatory finger. "You should be grateful that Rita is so forgiving!"

Rita shot her friend down. "I never said anything about caring or forgiving him. The fact remains that he tried to kill me and I don't trust him."

Felix seemed to simmer down a little from her biting remark, wings lowering slightly. Perhaps it was the cold look in her eyes. Who knew that the infamous wearer would be so...bitter? He turned his orange eyes to Wolfe, who seemed rather accepting of her response, but was waiting for her to continue, knowing she had more to add.

"Regale me," he said. "If you don't forgive or trust me, why bother?"

"I don't have an acceptable answer beyond the fact that the wound will bother me. I don't have a lot of friends because most people are jerks, and I'm usually a jerk back to them. However, I wouldn't wish them harm, regardless of how they treated me. You included."

Wolfe stared at her for the longest time before sighing. "You're a strange girl. I suppose I have no choice but to accept your half-kindness, if it'll help you sleep at night."

Rita's eyes softened as Wolfe walked over to a low boulder to sit down. Felix watched nervously as she went over to join the dark creature before she rummaged through her purse to find medicine and bandages, crouching in front of him. Wolfe held out his clawed hand, still torn and bloody, watching the girl curiously as she cautiously regarded his sharp talons. Chuckling darkly, the claws retracted to normal human nails. Relieved, she took her flask of water and cleaned his hand of the blood. Despite his convincing poker face, he was resisting the need to hiss at the touch.

He regarded her with an arched brow. "While you're down there..." The look he received from her actually made his soul quiver in small fear. "Relax! I was just going to ask where you are going. Explain to me while you're futilely nursing me."

"That's none of your business, is it?" Felix quipped with hostility.

"I didn't ask you, bug."

"I'm not a bug!"

Wolfe nearly laughed at how red Felix's face was. Rita was just starting to spread the medicine as she answered, "We're going to see Samael."

"Rita!"

"What? It's not like he can do any harm from just knowing!"

Wolfe's eyes darkened. "Samael? You must be joking. You realize where he is, right, and _what_he is?"

Rita paused. "Honestly, I don't. Felix is just leading me where to go. I'm not from around here, and I don't know anything about this place. All I know is that I'm the so-called Red Riding Hood. If fulfilling my duty as such will get me home, then I won't have any complaints about any surprises along the way."

He chuckled, "Even if he's a dragon that lives in a volcano?"

She paused again, this time looking up at him with shock. "What?" Finding no lie in Wolfe's eyes, she looked at Felix. "Did you know this?"

The fairy swallowed, looking ashamed. "I thought Queen Arella had told you already."

Wolfe looked at his nails of his uninjured hand with mild interest. "From what I hear, he's got a nasty temper too. Say or do the wrong thing, and he'll feast on you like you're an irresistible dessert."

"As if you're any better," she remarked.

"You kicked me in the balls."

"You were trying to force a kiss from me."

"I wasn't forcing anything. Also, you threw silver in my face."

"You were trying to kill me."

"You kicked me in the balls," he repeated bitterly.

She sighed, starting to wrap his hand now. "You deserved it."

His eye twitched then he smirked. "Have you kissed anyone before? Did the idea make you shy?"

She responded by painfully tightening the wrapping, earning that suppressed hiss from him. "Even if you had kissed me, it certainly wouldn't have been the first time. It probably would have been the worst though."

Eye twitching again, he said, "How would you know?"

"Your breath smells. Also, I don't appreciate being forced upon for any reason."

"My breath doesn't smell that bad! I just had a good dinner the night before."

"I know," she said quietly. "I could smell the blood."

The quietness of her voice forced him to keep him from saying something stupid. Could she really? Sighing, he leaned back slightly. "If it'll put you at ease, I wouldn't have eaten you."

She looked up. "Really?"

"That _was_the case, but you see, I don't take kindly to being sacked. I'm not one to forgive." Rita merely tied the knot as he leaned in close. "I still plan on killing you. In the meantime, I have no choice but to accompany you till such a time you release me, I find a way to have you killed, or in all unlikelihood, I forgive you."

"Who said you could come along?"

He smiled forebodingly. "You don't have much of a choice. I don't know who gave you this magic rag—"

"Cloak," she corrected.

"Whatever. I don't care, though it intrigues me as to what else it can do. However, you obviously have no control over it, and it barely protected you from me, and your bug is useless. You're going to need a proper bodyguard. There's more than just myself and wolves out there in the world."

For the longest time, Rita considered his offer of protection. Though it was obvious he'd make good on his threat in the future, she needed the help. She looked at Felix, who shook his head frantically. Despite his warnings about the werewolf, she really didn't have much of a choice, regardless of how untrustworthy he was.

"On one condition," she said finally, Wolfe arching his brow, "What's your name?"

"Wolfe," he replied with a deadpan expression.

She blinked. "Really?"

"With an _E_." She snorted. "What?"

"Isn't that a bit...cliché?"

He growled, "It's my family name! I didn't pick it!"

"So you have a first name?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then what is it?"

"You asked for a name, not a specific kind of name, so forget it!"

She sighed, "Fine. My name is Rita, and this is Felix."

"_Lamb_ and _Bug;_got it. Let's go already."

Rita pursed her lip in disapproval. "It's _Rita_!" she cried out even as she ran after Wolfe.

* * *

It had been dark for awhile, and the silence was just as long. Rita sighed with exhaust, having walked all day, and running away from wolves. Wolfe barely slowed his own pace after her initial complaint that he was walking too fast for her to keep up. She could still barely keep up, running on just fumes. Felix was just as tired, having spent his energy casting useless magic and flying most of the way. He was so tired, he had to rest on Rita's shoulder. Typically, Wolfe wasn't the least bit tired, despite having a hell of a day.

"Ugh! Would you stop? Please? I'm tired. Felix is tired. We need some sleep!" Rita managed.

Wolfe surprisingly stopped and crossed his arms. "You lesser beings are so feeble, it's a wonder how any of you have lasted this long."

"I'm not feeble! I'm exhausted! Surely you get tired."

He scoffed, "Tired? Nonsense; werewolves and other like-creatures having endless pits of energy, provided we keep fed." Wolfe was amused to see Rita visibly gulp. "Having trying to eat you today spoiled my appetite for the evening. Now, if you're that tired, we can camp here."

Felix finally buzzed into the air. "There's actually a town close by. Surely they've got an Inn."

Wolfe growled loudly, "No towns."

Rita burrowed her brows in confusion. "Why not?"

Felix crossed his arms. "He's a werewolf. People who know how to look for one will be able to spot him easily."

"People don't bother me," he denied. "Besides, I can blend in just fine."

"Your fangs and eyes give you away," Felix insisted.

Rita considered for a moment. "What if he kept his mouth shut and we blindfolded him?"

Felix blinked. "That might work."

"That's too obvious," Wolfe said. "Also, like I said, I have no trouble blending in."

"Then what's the problem?" Rita asked.

He chuckled mysteriously. "Well, you see, I'm a wanted beast. I just murdered my captors last night and ate them. They know what my human form looks like, and frankly, I'm not in the mood to defend myself this evening. Also, you'll draw a lot of attention."

"I'm confused. Why would I draw attention?"

"It's because of your rag. You may not know this, but it's actually illegal to have a red hooded cloak in Yavi'thil." Her blank expression forced him to continue. "The law was established three-hundred years ago. Due to the myth of the cloak, it's been assumed that it only brings calamity. You must know about the Wolf King." She nodded. "Well, because he was drawn to the power of the cloak, he wreaked war and havoc upon Yavi'thil just so he could have it." He snorted, "I don't know why though...seems useless to me."

Rita tilted her head as she shot back, "Restrained you, didn't it?"

"It's a pain in the ass, that's all. Anyway, no towns."

"I'll just put it away then, so nobody can see it. I want to go to an Inn, whether you want to or not."

With that, she followed after Felix, leaving the beast behind as he growled. Having removed the cloak, she folded it neatly and placed it in her pouch, pulling out the sack of money she would need. Eventually, they reached the town and she gaped with awe at the busyness and twinkling lights of the marketplace. The buildings were built in a Tudor style and the people dressed in middle-class clothing. As hard as she looked, she didn't find any cloaks of red. Wolfe stood beside her, arms crossed.

"Looks like you were right about that law," she said in small disbelief. "Would I have been arrested?"

"The night's still young," was all he said.

Felix momentarily glared at Wolfe as he walked ahead, and then shook his head before regarding Rita. "Let's go. I know a good place." He flew off, Rita following close behind through the crowd. He stopped in front of a three story building with stain glass window shutters and a swinging sign that read _The Sleeping Fox_. "Here we are. The food is good, the beds are comfy, the water is warm, and the fee is low."

"You'll have to help me with the money here. I don't know the currency here."

He flittered around her head as he explained, "It's very simple. One-hundred copper pieces equal one bronze piece. One-hundred bronze pieces equal one silver piece, and one-hundred silver pieces equal one gold piece. That's all you need to know. You can tell them apart by their colour and their value by their size. Lowest value is the smallest coin and so on."

"Alright, that's easy enough to know."

She walked up to the innkeeper at the front desk, who looked like a balding burly man with a moustache. He smiled toothily as he leaned forward on the counter. "Hello, love. Come in for a drink or a bed?"

"A room for the night is all. Do you have a room with two beds?"

"Sorry, I don't, but I have one with one large bed, enough to fit two people."

"That'll do. I'll take that. How much?"

"That'll be 3 silver."

She nodded, paying the man before grabbing the key and walking out as Felix flittered around again. "You sure you're willing to share the same bed as that guy?"

"I'm not sharing anything. He's sleeping on the floor."

"Am I?" Wolfe said suddenly from beside her, startling the two.

"Where'd you go?" she asked.

"What business is that of yours?"

"Geez, I was just asking. I got us a room," she declared.

"And I'm apparently sleeping on the floor?"

She shrugged. "You're being punished. Besides, you said you don't require much rest. C'est la vie."

It wasn't just Wolfe that gave her an odd look, but Felix as well. "The fuck does that mean?"

"That's life." She turned back into the inn. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm tired and filthy. I'm going to have a bath and sleep. Our room is number four. Goodnight."

Wolfe snorted then looked at Felix, who oddly stayed behind. "Why are you still here? Aren't you always following her like some love bug?"

"I am not a bug! And she said she was having a bath. I'm giving her privacy!"

"You're not the least bit curious?" Wolfe challenged. "I hear fairies are not all that innocent as they appear, especially the males."

"You hear wrong! I'm not a pervert, unlike you!" Felix exclaimed angrily, his wings buzzing more furiously.

"Bloody hell, you seriously can't take a joke, can you? If you're not curious, I certainly am. Though she doesn't appeal to me, a woman's body is still a woman's body."

Wolfe started to make his way upstairs before Felix flew into his path. "Oh, no you don't! I'll protect Rita, especially from perverts like you!" And with that, he exerted another orange blast of sparkling dust and sparks, powerful enough to have Wolfe take a step back, falling against the nearest wall.

He growled, wiping his face. "You bratty little insect! C'mere and I'll squish ya!"

The fairy squeaked, flying out of the inn in fear as Wolfe made a step towards him. When the fairy was gone, he smirked, walking up the stairs instead. A werewolf he may be, but he was also a man, and a clever one at that. He found the bathing room and poked his head inside. Rita was already soaking away the aches and pains from her lousy second day in Arda, eyes closed. He licked his lips, sneaking into the room, closing the door quietly and locking it. Still, he could occasionally be a gentleman.

"You know," he began, startling her, "if you didn't want anyone to come in, you could have locked the door."

Rita frantically tried to cover herself, curling up tightly as she screamed at him, "What the hell?! Get out of here!"

Mysteriously, he smiled, merely grabbing a stool and sitting in front of the door. The action forced Rita to gulp, briefly wondering if he was going to rape her, until his face sobered slightly, and he just stared through her. It was odd though, considering he didn't seem all that interested in looking at her. Perhaps being turned into a non-slave did that to a man's appetite, she had no idea. She grabbed the nearest object—a bath brush—and was primed to throw it at his head if necessary.

"I said get out!" she exclaimed warningly, raising her arm slightly.

"Relax," he said, leaning against the door and crossing his arms, "I'm not here to peep—not that you're much to look at—I'm here as your bodyguard."

"That's a load of bullshit! If that was true, you could sit outside the door instead!"

He sighed, exasperated, "Believe it or not, it'll be easier for me to protect you if I'm in the same room. I could care less about seeing you naked." The look she gave him sent him another unpleasant chill. "Fine! I came to peep, but I wasn't lying about anything else. Will it make you feel better if I close my eyes?"

"Marginally," she bitterly replied. "It would be better if you just sat outside the room." She looked around. "Where's Felix?"

"Flew off after I threatened to squish him like the bug he is," he replied, closing his eyes, his human ears twitching slightly as he listened to his surroundings, including her aggravated heartbeat. He resisted smirking at the sound of her blood raging through her veins due to his invasion of her privacy. "He'll be back, I'm sure."

"If you touch him, I'll—!"

"You'll what?" he warned, opening his eyes again as they flashed dangerously, ceasing her comment entirely. "Keep in mind, Little Lamb, that I am not one to threaten, especially not by the likes of you." Hearing her gulp, he took it as a sign that she understood before closing his eyes again. "Finish your bath already. This stool is uncomfortable."

* * *

The bustling of the village continued through the rest of the evening. Rita could hear it as she attempted sleep. The bed was almost too comfortable, and aside from the village noise, the room was deathly quiet. Felix was fast asleep on the pillow next to her own, emitting cute little snores. Wolfe sat next to the window, fingers rapping softly in a rhythm against the table. Watching his eyes with fascination, they truly did glow like blue moons.

"Wolfe?" His eyes moved to look at her. "Are werewolves colour-blind?"

"What an idiotic question," he said, looking back out the stain glass.

His remark didn't seem to bother her. "I don't know anything about this world. All I know about werewolves is what I remember from movies, and so far, everything I thought I knew about the Red Riding Hood fairy tale seems completely inaccurate."

He blinked. "Moo...vees? What are moovees?"

"Are werewolves colour-blind?" she repeated.

He sighed, "No. Unlike actual canines, we can see colour." He turned his head to look at her this time. "Now, what are moovees?"

It was amusing how much he sounded like a cow, but Rita oddly resisted laughing as she thought of the simplest explanation she could think of. "Movies are recorded plays that can be..._performed_any time you feel like watching it. It's electronic."

"You have strange magic where you're from," he muttered.

"This whole place seems strange to me."

Wolfe said nothing for awhile before asking, "What do these moovees tell you about us then?"

"Well, the silver allergy seemed to be right. Let's see, you could be turned into a werewolf if you were bitten or scratched by one. Or was it only a bite?"

He scoffed, "You can't be turned into a werewolf. Werewolves are born. Even if I did bite you, you're not in _danger_of turning into me."

She blinked. "You don't turn into a wolf against your will on a full moon?"

The smile he sent her sent a shiver through her. "A full moon is usually the most dangerous time to be out for a walk when it comes to werewolves." He laughed lightly, "Perhaps if you live long enough, you'll be able to bear witness for yourself on the next full moon."

"That's not funny," she said, frowning.

Wolfe just sat there in silence for awhile, staring at the floor as if contemplating something. "You didn't tell me why you wanted to treat my wound."

Rita sat up. "I did. I said I don't treat my enemies with contempt like they do me."

"That's bullshit," he mirrored. "There's something you're not saying that you're afraid to admit."

For the longest time, she inwardly debated and denied. Losing to herself, she said, "My mother used to read Little Red Riding Hood to me, and part of me always...sympathised with the Big Bad Wolf. I never really knew why, but I always said that if I were in the little girl's shoes, I would make an attempt to be friends with him." She sighed, turning her eyes to him, "Pretty corny, huh?"

Boredom had set on his face, which she expected. "No, not at all," he said sarcastically. "I don't care what your reasons are, but I will never be your friend. After all...I'm the Big Bad Wolf, and I will kill you the first chance I get, you and your bug."

Rita said nothing, despite how much she wanted to just give him a piece of her mind. When he returned his gaze to the window, she spoke up again. "How often do you eat and sleep?"

He sighed once more, "Are you going to annoy me all night with these questions?" With her nod, he muttered, "Bloody hell, woman. I'll last, so stop worrying about it."

"But I don't want to be eaten," she said innocently, throwing him off.

He glared at her. "Don't play cute, I won't eat you. I can't, remember?" Trying to make a point, he flipped her the bird that had the ring on it, glinting in the dark. "Every time I tried, my body locked up and constricted my breathing."

"I guess I'll have to learn to like you," she said bitterly. "I'm barely tolerating you."

"Likewise," he remarked, mirroring her bitterness. "Now, go to sleep if you want to make good time getting to Samael tomorrow."

"How much further is it?"

He pondered for a moment. "If it was just me, I'd say a day, at most, but since it's you and the insect, that'll take about a year."

"A year?!" she cried out in surprise.

He laughed, surprised that the fairy didn't wake, "I'm exaggerating. At walking speed, it'll take a couple of days. That's with all the resting stops included. If we didn't stop at all, at least a third of the time."

"You and I both know that Felix and I don't have your stamina."

"That's a given," he agreed. "Now sleep. I like to think in silence without your badgering."

Green eyes narrowed, Rita said nothing, merely lied back down, her back to him. It wasn't like she had a choice in letting him come along, did she? Something told her that this was going to not only be a long journey, but a difficult one, considering his personality. She looked at the charm bracelet, thinking fondly of her mother merely to calm the brewing anger. Eventually, her mind was finally at peace and she drifted off to sleep. Wolfe stared at Rita's back from the corner of his eye, perplexed by the girl that imprisoned him. Soon, he inwardly promised, he'd rip out her heart and eat it. Her kindness momentarily confused him, but he would never sway from his growing hatred of her. He hated humans to begin with, but this one was a special thorn in his side. Big Bad Wolf, indeed. Sympathise, did she? Well, he'll be quick to prove to her just how bad he really is.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize if this chapter isn't all that interesting. I didn't really know how else to fill it. Next chapter will be actiony and stuff! Also, I'm sorry for the slow updates. I hardly get any time on the only computer we have. I only get it when my mom goes to sleep, which is around early morning, and by then, I'm either too tired to write, or sleeping. Also, I've given up on the fixed story-update-rotation thing. I write WHAT I want, WHEN I want. However, I'm getting back into the mood to write FFVII RoC. I blame Soul Calibur 5. I made Riley, Shamus, and Mona. I also have Vincent, but I should make his fanfic versions, and Nanaki. Anyway, I'm tired. Goodnight. Thanks for reading and please leave a review. You don't have to, but it'd be nice. I like reading them. They're encouraging.


	4. CHIV Black Riders

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

* * *

**CHAPTER IV – Black Riders**

After Rita had fallen asleep, her safety wasn't the least bit of concern to him. Frankly, all he wanted was to get a little drunk, still pissed off at the day's events. The inn had a pub on the first floor, with a few small tables and chairs, as well as the main counter where the bartender served. People chattered away cheerfully, unaware of the beast that joined their presence. He sat at the counter, ordering a simple pint and taking small gulps of the liquor, until he felt eyes on his back. Sighing, he chanced a look over his shoulder, finding a black hooded figure in a dark corner, their booted feet on the table, merely relaxed in their seat. Taking a whiff, it was odd to find that the figure wasn't drinking. They would have blended in better if they had.

Initially, they looked as if they were one of the Black Riders that had a bounty on his head, but this one wasn't as heavily armoured, and the hood was just that, a hood. Riders wore cloaks. Wolfe couldn't see their eyes, hidden under the rim of the hood, but he knew they were looking at him. He turned away for a moment, and not even two seconds later, the dark stranger was sitting in the seat beside him, at least it felt that way. He blinked once, and then turned to stare at the figure, and he knew what they were. Riders were one thing, but werewolves knew to exercise caution towards those who could move like that.

From their scent, they were a woman, mid-twenties, healthy, and human. They said nothing to each other, but the silence spoke volumes. He observed her more casually, as a man would a woman in a bar setting. Other than the hood, she was almost entirely clothed in black. Her tight pants were made of leather, and she wore a matching simplified corset. Overtop was a suede jacket, short around the torso and long at the sleeves, with the ends folded over for style. She also wore dark rich brown leather gloves, and matching knee high boots with buckle straps/harness around the top and over the feet and heels. A matching belt hung around her hips, with a slightly curved—and empty—sheathe hanging on her left hip.

Wolfe briefly wondered if they didn't allow weapons in here, or if she had them hidden away. Deciding on the latter, his guard remained intact. As she got another drink, she paid the bartender, and walked away. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but the beast sensed something off about the woman. It didn't matter though...nothing would catch him off guard ever again.

* * *

"Get up," Wolfe demanded when first light arrived.

Rita groaned, curling tighter into a ball. "I don't want to get up yet."

"The faster you finish this damn quest of yours, the sooner I can be on my way."

"So you can kill me sooner? I'm not stupid. Now, go away," she said dismissively before burying her face in the pillow. Growling, he grabbed her and pulled her out of bed as she shrieked, "Ow! Let go of me, you asshole!"

He did after pushing her clothes into her arms. "Hurry up, I don't have all day."

Leaving her alone, he walked out just as Felix began to stir from the noise. "Huh? What's going on?" he asked, yawning and stretching.

"I don't know," she admitted. "He's suddenly anxious about leaving."

"He did voice that he didn't like towns," the fairy pointed out.

"I guess you're right."

She got dressed and nearly put on the cloak before remembering the law about it. Deciding better of it, she left it packed in her bag and came downstairs, checking out. Rita found Wolfe waiting outside with his arms crossed, expression serious, and his body language showing he was on guard, but what for?

"Something wrong?"

"No," he said dismissively. "Let's go."

Rita and Felix stared at each other and shrugged. Hours went by, and Rita asked Wolfe many questions about werewolves due to natural curiosity. He seemed annoyed but tolerant, answering her questions, if only to shut her up. Eventually they reached a river, Wolfe allowing his charge to take a break. Deciding that a nap wouldn't be a bad idea, he lied under a shady tree, hands clasped under his head. While he had his nap, Rita thought it safe to pull out the cloak now, putting it on just in case. Oddly enough, she felt incomplete without it. While Felix took his own nap beside her, she decided another journal entry was in order.

_Day three:_

_Before I left Queen Arella's care, I was warned about werewolves. As yesterday was growing dark, Felix and I were chased by a pack of wolves. When I thought we were dead, I thought a man came to save us until Felix told me he was a werewolf. Admittedly, I thought he was attractive at first, but I'm not naive enough to let a guy's appearance get me killed. Though, when he tried to kiss me, I panicked. If I hadn't, he probably wouldn't have attacked us himself. At least, that's what he keeps telling me._

_His name is Wolfe, but he's yet to share his first name due to his distrust of me—not that I can really blame him—but the feeling is mutual anyway. I asked him a few questions about werewolves so that I can be prepared for the time—if there is another chance—I face another werewolf, or Wolfe himself, since he constantly threatens that he'll kill me the first chance he gets. Which brings me to a separate point: the cloak I wear now protected me from his attacks and he's completely harmless now thanks to the ring he wears that now imprisons him any time he attempts to attack me. Though I'm relieved he can't hurt me, how long does this spell last?_

_Anyway, back to my research on werewolves, or Arda in general, he said that wolves cannot be made through the act of biting, only through intercourse. I asked him if they would be half wolf if one of the parents was human, and he said no. They're either full werewolf, or completely human. Nature is strange here. From what I've learned about these creatures, they're not sentimental beings, except with one thing, their first kill. They also do not get stronger with age, instead when they devour their meals, specifically humans due to their complexity. When I asked how exactly they do that, Wolfe said nothing beyond, "You'll sleep better if you didn't know." However, he did say that they can grow five times as strong devouring other werewolves, but they avoided each other so much due to territorial issues that it didn't happen often._

_I asked for further info on what happens during the full moon, as it is constantly associated with werewolf lore in my world. Like the first time I asked, Wolfe was vague. I can only guess that something terrible happens, either that or they get really ravenous—or both. Just to keep myself from worrying about it, I think of it as a sort of menstrual period for them, however incorrect that may be. Still, I don't really want to think about what it truly means. For now, I can only hope that it won't affect the cloak's ability to protect me from him. Still, quite a few days away I think._

Briefly, she stopped writing, thinking about the last sentence. The first night she was here was the night of the first quarter, and this was her third day in Arda. She once read about moon phases. After a new moon, a full moon occurred on the fourteenth day; she was on the ninth day now. This meant she only had five days to wait to see the answer to the question she didn't really want an answer for. Glancing over at Wolfe, who was still fast asleep, she swallowed some, and then proceeded to make finishing notes in her journal.

Once finished, she crouched by the water, cupping the liquid in her hands. As gross as she thought it was, she briefly wished she had some purification tablets but drank the water anyway. At least it didn't taste gross. Sitting on her knees, she stared at her distorted reflection, wondering what to expect on this journey. So far she'd been surprised by fairies, elves, werewolves, and soon-to-be dragons. At least she now had an idea what kind of species to expect. Magic existed alongside the fairy and dark tale creatures, proven by the very fabric she wore upon her shoulders.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she quickly turned to find that Wolfe approached her. "I thought you were asleep."

"I don't sit well with silence," he casually replied. "What's so interesting about the water?"

"Huh?"

"You were staring so intently into it." He stood next to her, staring at his own reflection.

"I was just thinking," she said, turning her gaze back to the river.

"A woman thinking is a dangerous mix."

She scowled, "I don't know what goes on in this world, but where I'm from, women accomplish just as much as men. You have a very skewed view on women, don't you?"

He chuckled, "Women are breeders and tools to be used to make men comfortable. That's the way it is."

For the longest time, her glare reflected into the water at him. "If that's true, then why the leader of the elves a woman?"

"That's elf custom. It's the same with the fairies." He crossed his arms, not the least bit bothered by her glare.

Anger had settled into her posture, shaking slightly with her rising ire. Everything Wolfe said just served to piss her off. She stood, getting into his face as much as her toes would raise her. "Werewolf or not, you men are all the same with your narrow minds and opinions! You think you own women because you believe we're the weaker sex. Let me give you a hint on women, _Pup_..." Wolfe's eyebrows rose. "...we can be cold, calculating, and downright vicious if you push us enough. Unlike you men, we have the ability to think twenty-four/seven, whereas you can only either think with your brains, which isn't saying a lot, or you think with your dicks! And it's your dicks that make you believe you are the dominant life-form!" She stopped to catch her breath while Felix had awoken around by now, eyes wide, wings completely still. She raised an accusatory finger as she continued, "And if you so much as ever tell me to go back in the kitchen, or get you a sandwich...I'll feminize you!"

Quiet pants filled the silence while Wolfe gauged her, his expression completely unreadable. Finally, he said after inhaling deeply, "I never said I shared the same opinion."

Her own expression softened slightly from the surprise. "But, you..."

"I have sex with women on a regular basis, true, but that's just my lifestyle. In my defence, women need just as much of a release as men do, especially in today's society where most men think lowly of the opposite sex. You assume I think women are weak, when it's the contrary. I know for a fact that women are much stronger than men in more ways than one." The softness in his voice made her anger dissipate to nothing while he turned away. "Now, let's go little Lamb. It's still another day and a half's walk to the mountains."

She stared after him, not certain of what to think. Rita thought she had seen everything she needed to see from Wolfe, but this side she never saw, and she felt strangely ashamed. Head down, she followed silently after him with the fairy close behind her. Now she just felt like a biased ass. No less than a hypocrite, she thought.

Rita's silence bothered Wolfe as he stared over his shoulder at her. "When I said a thinking woman was a dangerous mix, I meant it as a compliment, but stop thinking so hard about it. I've already got myself in the line of your fire; I personally don't want to again. Though I have to say," he began slowly, drawing her gaze, "you're strangely alluring when you're angry." Heat rose to her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with her? "I might even consider taking another chance at that kiss I never got."

"Forget it," she said entirely too quickly, evidently uncomfortable.

He chuckled, "Still think I would eat you? Well, if you release me and we go at it, I'll let you live and I'll move on with my life."

She scowled, "Even if this is a used line, I will never sleep with you even if you were the last man on Earth...or Arda."

He smiled. "We'll see, virgin." She gaped—not surprising that she didn't know that feat about werewolves. "My kind can smell the difference between virgin women and the non-chaste." Before she could ask how, he said, "It has mostly to do with the hymen. Otherwise, we just smell whether or not they've been with a man."

"Is this a hobby?" she asked incredulously.

"No, we just know. In your case, you've kissed only a couple of boys but never went to bed with them. I guess you're saving yourself for your wedding night."

Her annoyance began to flare again. "_That_is none of your business!"

He only wolfishly grinned, about to say something before his face went suddenly alert. Rita was deaf to it, but he could hear an airy whistle, jumping back just as a crossbow bolt hit the ground where he once stood. Rita gasped in surprise then looked around. Wolfe crouched ready to pull it out of the ground before he saw the particular sheen to it.

He tsked, "Silver bolts. Looks like my hunting party finally found me."

"Hunting party?!"

"Keep moving. And don't bother removing the cloak," he said when she went to take it off. "If they've seen me, they've certainly seen you already. Now you're a wanted criminal. Isn't this fun?" he asked, delivering her a mocking grin.

"So that's it? I wear a red hood and I'm a criminal?! Where's the logic in that?!" she shouted before shrieking as a bolt flew past her nose. Normally she was calm, but the thought of nearly losing her life brought her to the peak of panic, hyperventilating from the shock. "My nose...they nearly got my nose...I always hated that game!"

"Calm down," he demanded, moving to her side.

"You calm down! I'm just a lowly human, remember?! I didn't ask to be chased by wolves, assaulted by their higher kin and get shot at by hunters that are after _you_!"

He flicked her lip, shocking her. "I said calm down. Nobody survived anything from panicking. They're just sending us warning shots not to move."

"But they nearly shot my nose off!"

"And they'll pay for that," he sighed, "but right now, we'll see what they have to say. And here they are," he announced as men in black hoods surrounded them.

One approached them, shouldering his crossbow. "I hunt for one criminal and end up with three."

"But Rita and I did nothing wrong," Felix protested, wings flickering.

Rita swallowed, finally collecting her wits. "I know I'm not supposed to wear this in public but I..."

"There's a strict law stating that no one shall either own or wear a red cloak. The crime's sentence is life imprisonment."

She gaped. "Life?! Isn't that a bit too harsh?! I would think a slap on the wrist would be more than sufficient."

"A woman that thinks and goes against authority with her own opinion is even worse."

Wolfe waved his hand warningly. "I wouldn't say that if I were you. She'll bite your head off..."

The dark soldiers raised their aim on Rita in an instant. She scowled, "Thanks a lot, Wolfe."

"It's not my fault they take metaphors literally."

The Captain of the squadron merely continued, "I don't care if she's human or werewolf. A woman should know her place, especially a criminal."

Rita swallowed as the crossbows remained fixed upon her. Deciding it might not hurt to try, she said aloud and firmly, "I am Red Riding Hood, sent on a quest by Queen Arella of the Elves. You are obstructing my journey that may potentially bring peace to Yavi'thil. I am on my way to see Samael of the mountains to learn more about myself as Red Riding Hood. The fairy boy has been assigned by the Elf Queen to guide me to Samael's lair. As for this guy, he's my bodyguard."

The Captain didn't speak at first, glancing at Wolfe before chortling heartily. "This wanted killer is your bodyguard? You speak nonsense and folly. Also, that's a myth, and I doubt the Queen of the Elves would send someone like you on this foolish quest." He took out a small rolled up parchment, unravelling and reading from it, "Mr. Wolfe, you are hereby charged with murder of countless men, Black Rider officials included, and shameless desecration of their bodies. The new sentence is that you will not be imprisoned."

Wolfe's eyebrows shot up. "Well, that's new. I'm sensing a 'but' in there."

"Instead, you will be captured, tortured, and then publicly executed. How do you plead?"

Rita was shaking, and she didn't know why. She stared at Wolfe, who was expressionless before a dark smile was plastered on his face. "What can I say? I was hungry."

"Very well, however, the conditions only apply if I can capture you alive. Anything could happen, especially an early execution when a Black Rider has no choice due to a werewolf's...stubbornness."

Wolfe laughed, eyes flashing dangerously, "I was starting to wonder if any of you riders would make things interesting for me. How exciting..."

"Wolfe?" Rita asked uneasily.

"I have to wonder though," said the Captain, "Why are you hanging around a human girl? Did you plan to rape and eat her later, or is there a larger motive here?"

"I resent the assumption that I rape at all. Even I have more respect for women than that. Perhaps it's you that engages in such a disgraceful activity." Wolfe smiled. "That would give me all the more reason to kill you. Though, I can smell how disgusting your soul is to the point that it's gagging. I have no desire to devour you. Instead, I'll leave you alive and leave you tied up under an unforgiving sun to boil slowly to death. Or, maybe I should leave you to a flock of crows, you disgusting excuse for a man."

Rita saw the fury in his eyes and briefly wondered if his accusation was on the nose. Maybe he did respect women after all. Did that mean he never actually intended to hurt her in the first place, before she landed a knee in him that is? Suddenly, she wanted to believe in him, and she inwardly smiled.

The Captain glared at Wolfe, revealing that he'd been right. Wolfe easily smelled a woman's fear on this man, and it nauseated him. "Well?"

"You're quick to spin a lie, aren't you? Your death will be slow."

"It will have to be quick if you actually want to kill me."

"Men," the Captain began derisively, "Kill him. Put irons on the girl. Squish the fairy."

Rita took a step back. "Wolfe?" she repeated worriedly.

"I got this," he assured her quietly. "Just stay low and out of my way."

Things went quiet as their aim was now directed at him. In most cases, whoever made the last move ended up dead, but it usually didn't involve a beast like Wolfe. Before anyone could make a the first move, his hearing picked up the sound of the airy whistle again, but when he went to dodge, he jerked in surprise as a bolt went through a soldier's back and nearly into Wolfe's face. He caught it in his hand, blood and skin sizzling from both the friction of the air and his allergy. Dropping it, he smelt something familiar and took this chance.

While the soldiers stared in shock as the one shot fell over dead, Wolfe grabbed Rita's hand and ran. "Let's go!" He bulldozed through a couple of the Riders, knocking them to the ground as bolts from nowhere kept flying. "Damn, and I was craving blood too."

"Not the time for your jokes, Wolfe!" Felix exclaimed, following closely.

"Who's attacking?" Rita asked, barely able to keep her footing.

"I'm not willing to find out right now!" All Wolfe could think about now was running. Honestly, he wasn't in the mood for a fight. "That bolt was covered in poison." Though it would not affect him, he made a mental note to wash his hand later. "Shit!" he said, looking behind him to find that there were five soldiers left and the Captain following after them. He slid to a stop and pushed Rita away. "Go and get as far as you can away from me. This won't be pretty."

"What about you?"

He snorted, "Just go, you stupid girl."

Felix coaxed her, "C'mon, we have to keep moving!"

Swallowing hard, she reluctantly ran off. "Lead the way Felix; if he keeps his word, Wolfe will catch up." With a nod, Felix sped ahead, until a sack flew over him and trapped him inside. Rita skid to a stop, crying out, "Felix!"

Before her stood the Captain, small sack in hand as he grinned triumphantly. "Little girl, I suggest you surrender yourself, or your pixie friend won't live till the next moment."

Rita gulped, eyeing the sack as Felix cried out through the thick fabric. "Don't listen to him Rita, just run!"

"But I..." she began to protest.

"No buts about it; just go!"

"Do you want him to die? Would you allow such a small and helpless creature die for you, so you can live?" the soldier mocked.

After a moment's hesitation, she exhaled in defeat and calmly walked over. Once within reach, he grabbed her by the throat roughly, pulling her against him with her back against his front. He grinned while she winced and struggled. Having no training or weapon of any kind, as well as Felix's life hanging in the balance, Rita had no choice but to be obedient as he dragged her along.

Meanwhile, Wolfe stood still, eyeing each surviving soldier. After many moments of silence, one of the Riders made the first move, charging forward with a swing of his sword. Wolfe leaned to the left, right, then back, swinging his leg upwards and into the warrior's jaw, knocking him back. Two others came at him from both sides and he back flipped as they swung their blades downwards, cutting each other down. Foolish, he thought bitterly, swordsmen should know better than that. It was in that instant that he realized that their leader was gone. Mentally cursing, he turned to run in the direction Rita went, but was blocked off by the last two.

"Get out of my way," he warned.

Instead of complying, they rushed him in unison, more trained and faster than the others. Wolfe growled before having to dodge each strike. Despite his supernatural speed, one of them managed to pierce him through his left shoulder. Gasping in pain, the wound stung from the silver of the blade, smoking slightly. The sound he made was guttural and dark. As the two of them stared in small fear of the creature, Wolfe hung his head low, exhaling visible breath as if it was steam from how royally pissed off he was at the moment.

As the second soldier went to strike him down, Wolfe caught the blade, blood trailing to the hilt while smoke rose from his hand, claws extended now to deadly points. Squeezing, he broke the blade in half, taking his end of it and thrusting it upwards through its owner's jaw and out the top of his head. As the werewolf slowly raised his head, the surviving warrior began to sense his imminent doom, starting to panic as he tried to withdraw his sword from Wolfe's flesh to no avail. It also didn't help that he grabbed the blade either. Downright fearful of the beast, upon seeing the face of this demon, he released the sword and ran off. Wolfe merely smirked and ran after him at full speed, pouncing the coward and tearing out his throat with his teeth, silencing the scream that reached the Captain's ears from afar.

Rita paused, turned around to stare back in the distance. "Wolfe..."

"Keep moving," he demanded, pulling her by the arm, nearly tripping her in the process.

Glaring at him, she silently hoped Wolfe would keep his word and come to hers and Felix's rescue. "He'll kill you," she warned.

He laughed, "Is that so? You think he can draw _my _blood? I'm Captain Gregory Zant. My record of killing his kind is one of the highest records of the Black Riders!"

"Your cockiness will be your death, _Zant_. I've never seen him in action myself, but I know from looking in his eyes that he'll keep his promise."

"What promise was that?" he asked distractedly, not really listening to her.

Her eyes narrowed, face all seriousness. "That he'll kill you slowly, making sure you feel nothing but pain with every moment you're alive."

Zant chuckled, "We'll see."

"If you're so certain that you'll be able to kill him, what do you plan to do with me?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he replied furtively.

Wolfe stood amongst the bleeding bodies, finding that one had survived and already ran away. "Tch..." he said between his teeth. It didn't matter though, he had more important matters. Hissing, he removed the sword from his shoulder, his entire left arm completely useless and limp. He thought of Rita and whether or not she got away. "Wait for me..." he said, running off at top speed, following her scent.

When he finally reached the end of her scent, he stood before ruins of what could have been a windmill made from white stone upon a grassy cliff overlooking the ocean. Wind blew through his hair and clothes, catching Rita's scent once again. She's very close, he determined. Mixed with her scent was her fear and the Captain's. Eyes narrowed, he moved forward, stopping when Zant came into view, holding Rita with a dagger at her throat and a sack tied to his belt, which Wolfe only assumed the fairy was imprisoned in. Zant smiled triumphantly, eyes dark with intent. The werewolf noted where they stood; atop the ever crumbling stairs which hung dangerously over the cliff.

"Wolfe," Rita breathed with relief, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Well, Mr. Wolfe, it seems you're in a predicament," Zant exclaimed.

Unimpressed, Wolfe replied, "And what predicament is that?"

Zant's smile never wavered. "Well, a couple of things. Firstly, I have your woman in my clutches." Wolfe raised a brow. "Second, you're wounded." The beast stared at his still bleeding injury. "I say the odds are in my favour, as I know werewolves heal at the rate of a human when stung by silver." He grinned. "Once I deal with you, I'll take your woman to have her judged; both by the council of the Black Riders, and by me." To make his point, his hand wandered roughly over her breast, squeezing tightly.

Rita flinched while Felix fought more violently in the sack. "You keep your dirty hands off of her, you heathen! You'll be sorry when I get out of here!"

Wolfe watched Zant with a dark gaze, before his face sobered to that of boredom. "There's just a few problems with that. One, she's not my woman, she's my prey. Two," he gave a deathly pause, "if you're so certain you can kill me, why are you hiding behind a little girl?"

Zant didn't take kindly to Wolfe's challenge, pressing the dagger further into Rita's skin, blood beading out. "Don't test me, beast! I will kill her!"

"Go ahead," he said. "You'd be doing me a favour—not that you'll do it anyway. You won't get off otherwise."

Zant pulled on the girl, holding her by the back of her blouse's collar while he tipped her dangerously over the edge. Her green orbs widened before she screamed, totally terrified of heights while water thrashed against the sharp rocks below. Wolfe didn't even flinch; only his blue eyes darkened. Zant's smile had faded at this point, clearly serious.

"What now, werewolf?" He was rewarded with a growl. "Either you sacrifice yourself, or the girl dies in your place."

"Fuck you," was Wolfe's bitter response. It made his blood boil seeing the way Zant touched her, and barely maintained his own calm, but knowing now not to play disinterested, his anger shone through. "Let the girl go, and we'll finish this like men."

Zant laughed, "Men, you say? Foolish boy, you'd have to be human to even consider yourself a man."

Felix fought in the sack again, and without Zant's notice, he began to cut through the fabric slowly with his dagger. Wolfe eyed Rita cautiously, noticing the way her body shook from the view of imminent death below. He pitied her at the moment, though it would have been a quick death if she hit the rocks. However, if she didn't hit the rocks, she'd drown and be torn by the rocks from being thrown against them by the waves. Though he intended to kill her, he had no intention of letting her suffer. Also, Wolfe would never allow harm to come to her as long as he wore the ring that bound him to her.

"Fine...then it shall be between monsters." Zant grinned at Wolfe's claim before the creature continued, "But there is one other thing that I deem a problem."

"And what is that, werewolf?"

The whites of his eyes turned black, his irises glowing in high contrast with his darkening face. "You dared to lay your filthy hands on her. Your fingers will be the first to go, then your hands. Next I'll remove that thing you call your dick, you swine!"

A dark aura surrounded him, and for once, Zant was afraid, but he steeled himself against the threat even as Wolfe's ebony locks grew wilder, his growling more feral. Meanwhile, Felix managed to squeeze out of the hole he made, wings flickering as he flew in front of Rita's face to distract her from her terror. Snapping out of it, she stared at the pixie, tears swelling at the corner of her eyes. With some effort, she turned to stare at the back of Zant's head, and spotted his quiver of bolts. Reaching behind her, she managed to grab one and hold it firmly in her grasp before stabbing Zant in the hand that held her.

Screaming, he released her, cradling his hand, but Rita was not as lucky as she fell, barely catching the ledge with a scream. Felix made multiple attempts to help her back up, but the weight was too much. Zant growled, glaring at the pair, giving Wolfe the opportunity to strike. He rushed forward, nearly at Zant before the Captain turned around, digging the dagger into his side. Yelping, he used any remaining strength he had left to grab the man's throat before squeezing. Zant choked, but he twisted the blade, earning a howl from Wolfe, loosening his grip.

"Wolfe!" Rita cried.

She proceeded to make effort in lifting herself up, but she didn't have the upper body strength. She began to cry in frustration until she suddenly felt she had the strength to lift herself, with a slight shimmer from the cloak. Managing to climb to safety, she raised her head then rushed behind Zant, grabbing another bolt and stabbing him in the back. He shouted in agony, reaching behind him to take out the bolt. Before he could do so however, Felix flew in with a blast of orange glitter, blinding him more than anything, giving Wolfe the final opportunity. The werewolf used his good hand to thrust through the man's chest then yank hard on his spine, crushing the bones beneath his hand. Paralyzed with pain, Zant released the dagger and fell back, coughing up blood before he fell over the edge and to the white frothy death below, spattering over the rocks.

Wolfe panted, soaked in mostly his own blood and Zant's. Eyes turning to normal, he collapsed to his knees, Rita falling to her own to support him before he fell on his face. "Oh god...there's so much blood. We have to get you to a doctor!"

He laughed labouredly, "I'm fine...it'll heal."

"You're not fine! Look at you!"

"Such a stupid girl," he said with a soft smile, throwing her off. "Werewolves don't die as easily as humans. Just...lean me against the wall there. I just need to close my eyes a minute. I'll be fine."

She did so as gently as she could, trying desperately not to cry. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

He managed to open one eye, half glaring at her. "Why are you apologizing for something that was out of your control? You're really strange." She swallowed, not realizing she ended up crying after all. The emotions she showed intrigued him. Was she crying for him? He reached up, retracting his claws to thumb away the tears. "I can't stand to see a woman cry. I'll live, just...stop it."

Furiously, she wiped at her face. "You keep calling me stupid when you're the stupid one for getting hurt." She eyed the dagger still in his side. "Shouldn't we remove that before the silver really kills you?"

He grunted, "I'll bleed out more if we do, but I'm not worried about bleeding to death. Just be quick about it."

Rita nodded, grabbing the handle gently and then gripped it firmly. As quickly as possible, she pulled it out, flinching from the yelp he made. He began to bleed profusely, the wound sizzling some. He seemed to relax after a moment but didn't seem like he was dying for the moment. Rita reached around for her aid kit before she heard something crumble beneath her. The stone collapsing from age and her weight, she screamed as she fell through.

Wolfe was wide awake at her scream, as he and Felix both shouted, "RITA!"

They both dove for her as she fell. When Felix reached her, he made several attempts like before to keep her from falling, but again, the weight was too much for him. Wolfe sped downwards, wrapping his good arm around her and forcing them to spin around, forcing his injured arm to move and latch onto the rocky wall. He yelped in pain as it didn't serve to slow them down.

"Hold onto me!"

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he made one last ditch effort to grab hold. He slammed his hand into the wall, abruptly stopping them both five feet above the water. He grunted in pain as his side hit the wall, rocks digging into his wound. Rita whimpered then opened her eyes. Her breath shuddered against his chest. They both panted but Wolfe was more worn out.

"Damn, you're a handful," he said jokingly. "Keep your hold firm. I'll climb us both up."

She swallowed, tightening her hold. "Aren't I too much?"

"If you die, I don't know what will happen to this stupid ring's power. I'd rather not take the chance. Nothing's too much. Now shut up and hold on."

Rita remained silent, and any time Felix tried to help while Wolfe was climbing slowly upwards, the werewolf merely growled at him. After what seemed like forever, he reached a grassy ledge, pushing Rita over it, not having enough strength to pull himself up anymore. Thankfully, Rita was kind enough to pull him up herself, though with much effort since he was mostly dead weight. When she did manage to pull him up, she fell back with a small shriek with him falling on top of her. Not certain how to approach this, she stared at him. He struggled to remove his weight from her, but paused in removing himself. The look he sent her made a strange ripple travel through her body. His eyes were so intense, that she thought he was about to do something.

"Wolfe?"

He just kept staring, whispering weakly, "Are you alright...Rita?"

She blinked. He never said her name before, she realized. She nodded. "Yeah...I'm fine."

"Okay," he said.

With that, he fell to the side, passing out from blood loss. Felix tapped his cheek a little. "He's alive, but he's going to be out for awhile."

Rita sat up and pushed Wolfe onto his back, finding the aid kit. "We should treat his wounds before he bleeds to death." As she removed his shirt, she couldn't help thinking..._He saved my life._

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**A/N:** Wow, this chapter took longer than I thought it would. Apologies for that, but I was determined to finish this chapter today. I get even less recreational time on the computer, it seems, so you guys might not see more than one chapter a month, at least until I get a job, so, apologies in advance. Also, I'm depressed over the fact my Playstation 3 stopped functioning one day and told me to reformat, so I lost all of my save files, which sucks! At least I get to keep my trophies. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, so please leave a review. Again, I love reading them. Till next chapter.


	5. CHV Lord of Fire

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

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**CHAPTER V – Lord of Fire**

It was chilly as Wolfe began to come around. Slowly, he opened his eyes, staring at the sky in a daze, briefly wondering if he had died after all. He caught the girl's scent, somewhat relieving him. Turning his head, he spotted her passed out from exhaustion under a tree, her legs oddly lying on the ground as if she didn't intend to fall asleep. The image was, with lack of a better word, cute. With a grunt and a lot of effort, he sat up, gripping his right side where the knife wound would have been. His lower torso, left shoulder, and right hand were bandaged up, much to his own surprise. Unfortunately, because the wounds were caused by silver, they would be ugly scars for awhile. At least when Rita threw dust in his face, it was just that; dust. It hardly damaged him, so he got to be handsome for awhile more.

Turning his attention back to Rita, he stood up and crouched by her side once close enough. Intrigued, knowing she was the one that treated him, he reached out with his left hand, barely touching a strand of hair, recoiling instantly when Rita began to stir. Sleepy green met with soft blue as she came around.

"Wolfe?" she asked, clearing her vision of sleep. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I suppose." He looked around. "How long was I out?"

"Since yesterday," she replied. "You're really reckless."

"I'm an animal," he said, smiling. "What'd you expect?" He stood then. "We should get going. Where's the bug?"

Rita blinked and looked around. "I think he said something about keeping an eye out for further threats."

"I see."

"And he's a fairy."

"He's still a bug to me."

Patiently, she said, "Maybe you should rest some more. You were badly wounded yesterday. I was relieved when the bleeding finally stopped."

Relieved? This surprised Wolfe. "I'm a werewolf; I told you I wouldn't die from something like that."

"Like I would believe that; it's true, isn't it—about werewolves healing at a normal rate when harmed with silver?"

He paused. "Only after prolonged exposure—I was too pissed off to care about that. That Black Rider Captain had the nerve to challenge me, and he paid for it."

"How long is enough exposure?"

"A couple minutes since the silver practically sizzles werewolf flesh. Now, pack your things. If we're lucky, we might make it to the mountains by nightfall. Call your insect," he said dismissively, finding his shirt and sighing at the amount of blood and holes in it. "Damn."

"Fairy," she corrected again, doing as he asked. "Felix!" she called out.

As she gathered her things and followed after Wolfe, Felix soon appeared. "He's better already?" Rita nodded. "Hmm..." He flew after Wolfe, buzzing around his head. "You should thank Rita. She saved your life."

Wolfe's face turned to that of annoyance. "I thought it was the other way around. I saved her _twice_."

"Nu-uh—she saved _you_ twice! Once when you were stabbed, and second when she kept you from bleeding out."

"I saved her from the stupid rider, and from falling to her death. We're even. She doesn't need a word of gratitude. You on the other hand were completely useless."

"I blinded Zant! I gave you an opening! I also brought Rita back from her fear."

Neither of them realized it, but as the two argued, Rita rolled her eyes, hearing everything that was said. Getting annoyed, she pushed past them both. "I'm not some prize to be won, you idiots," she declared, walking ahead of them.

Wolfe and Felix blinked then glared at each other. "Now you got her mad again," they accused in unison. "What?! No, you did!"

"Don't make me pick off your wings!" Wolfe warned.

Felix flew out of Wolfe's arm reach. "You can't catch me!"

Rita sighed, staring ahead. "How are we supposed to reach the mountains by nightfall? I don't even see the mountains!" When she turned to face Wolfe, she saw a grin plastered on his face. "What?"

"You might enjoy this," he said.

"That better not be some hint to sex, because I already told you I wasn't—whoa!" Before she could finish, he'd misted into the shape of a large wolf, fur as black as his hair, and his eyes intensely blue, the whites turned black. He looked gorgeous, and the ring that was on his human finger now served as a brightly glowing red crescent moon on his paw. "Oh my god...I thought werewolves would be bipedal, with opposable thumbs and stuff."

He seemed pleased with her awe, though Felix wasn't impressed. "Don't let his animal appearance fool you, Rita, he's still a dangerous monster!"

Wolfe growled, "Keep quiet, you insect. I've got no intention of hurting the Little Lamb. I only intend to give her a ride. At my pace, we'll make it to the mountains."

Rita blinked, eyes growing huge with the mental image of riding atop a werewolf, but hesitated. "What about your injuries?" She eyed the bandages that seemed to stretch, but otherwise they were fine as is.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Climb up and hold on, but try not to pull on the fur."

She swallowed then complied after he lied on the ground to allow her easier access. He shuddered pleasantly when she ran fingers through his soft fur. "You're so soft." Rita sounded as giddy as she felt.

He couldn't help the chuckle. It was not the reaction he had expected when he revealed his wolf form, but it was an acceptable and pleasant reaction nonetheless. When Rita secured the reluctant fairy in her hood, Wolfe was off with a small shriek of surprise from the girl. He ran at near lightning speed, but slowed to a pace that Rita could handle. He dodged trees, logs, rogue branches, jumping over bushes and up a small cliff. It took everything Rita had to hold on with every steep swerve and leap. After awhile, she grew used to this form of transportation, relaxing without fear of falling off, though she buried her face in his back to keep the wind resistance to a minimum and to prevent falling off.

Wolfe considered her as he ran, briefly perplexed by her trust. He thought back to the time he didn't hesitate to dive to her rescue when she fell. What he said about the ring was utter bullshit, and actually cared about the manner of death she had. Whatever she did, she didn't need to die slow and painfully. Granted, yes, he was angry, but he cooled down since their first bout. What the hell was wrong with him all of a sudden? Maybe it was the look of genuine concern on her face when she discovered the wounds he was riddled with. Hell, she even treated and bandaged him, regardless of what he told her. Stupid girl, he thought, though not as harshly as he said it to her. Perhaps she wasn't worth killing after all. Though he didn't wish to admit it, Rita possibly saved his life, though it was her fault he was wounded and near death to begin with. He inwardly nodded once, deciding that was all it was.

Still, when she fell, he felt his heart clench with concern that he wouldn't catch her in time. Where did that come from? When his arm wrapped around her, she clung to him, and it felt admittedly good despite the pain. Hell, it distracted him long enough to climb the face of the cliff to safety. He barely recalled how Rita struggled to pull him up and how he fell on top of her. Had he been in better condition, he probably would have taken advantage of the situation. Wolfe knew he spoke, but he couldn't remember what he said, or what she said. Then he remembered nothing after that, initially believing that he died once he came to. Rita had been sleeping, though he wondered if she stayed up to watch over him. In all his life, he'd never known a human to show compassion towards a werewolf. Perhaps that was why he suddenly offered her a ride on his back.

As night closed in, he leaped across a river then slowed to a trot as he approached air thick with the smell of sulphur and smoke. It was hot here, but nothing but the steam rising from various cracks in the mountain indicated that there was heat. Not even the coolness of evening or the rushing air of Wolfe's speed could abate the growing sweat. Rita was tempted to remove her socks and boots.

"Is this it?" she asked.

"Yes," Wolfe replied, peering ahead, seeing a large cave opening in the distance, wrought with dead roots. "Seems like the volcano is active, otherwise those roots would be healthy."

"Is it too dangerous to go inside?"

"Scared?" he asked, smiling.

"No, of course not, but I'm not stupid either."

"It's safe enough. Dragons are environmentally connected to their elements, and they control those elements. It's what makes them so fearsome," he explained.

"I thought they only controlled fire."

Wolfe seemed to smile in his animal form. "How little you know of this world."

"Rita..." Felix managed.

She looked over her shoulder and blinked. "Felix?"

"The heat is too much for someone as small as me..."

"Wimp," Wolfe quipped. Rita shot him a glare. "What?"

Rita turned back to Felix. "Go back to the river and cool down."

"You sure you want to be left alone with this guy?"

"If Arella says that Samael will help, I doubt he'll hurt me."

"I was talking about Wolfe." The beast snorted.

Rita smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, he can't hurt me."

"Don't challenge me," Wolfe warned. "Leave already, Bug, so the Lamb and I can get this over with."

Felix huffed, but didn't protest further, flittering away to the river. Inwardly, he wished Rita luck, while praying that Samael would eat Wolfe. Werewolves knew better than to stroll into a dragon's domain. After he left, Wolfe continued on with Rita still riding his back, ashes disturbed under his cautious footsteps as he approached the cavern entrance. They both looked at it and Wolfe continued once more, but through the dark and deep into the earth, their path lit only by the vein-like patterns on the walls and floors with fiery heat. Rita breathed shallowly, having a hard time from the high temperature and the thickness of burn. Moments passed and the path began to brighten considerably.

Finally, Wolfe strolled into a large cavern, with barely a rocky path to tread on, surrounded on all sides by magma and high stone columns protruding from the pools. Rita climbed off Wolfe's back, face shimmering with sweat and oils, dirt and ash clinging to the moistness. Wolfe simply felt dirty, and the fur didn't help. He considered changing back to his human form until his thoughts were interrupted by his ward.

"There's no one here," she managed through laboured breath.

"You're wrong," said Wolfe. "He slumbers beneath the fire. Stay close to me."

She placed a hand on his side, letting him know she was sticking close. "Do you...remember anything from yesterday?"

"I was wounded considerably and passed out once I climbed the cliff face. Why?"

Rita shook her head. "No, it's nothing important. Still, something else bothers me. Yesterday, when we were surrounded by those soldiers, someone else fired from the trees. They didn't shoot at us, but killed most of the soldiers. Do you think someone is helping us?"

"Ha! Some stranger—help us? I don't believe in random acts of kindness. Everyone has a motive. Even I do." The look he got when he turned to look at her sent that unpleasant chill through him again. "What?"

"Is it to kill me, or bed me?"

"That's for me to know," he teased.

"You said my name though..." she muttered quietly.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," she lied.

In truth, he had heard what she said. As they continued to move deeper into the heart of the pit, Wolfe finally remembered the events of yesterday, specifically what he said to her. He had said her name, and in a way that was affectionate concern. The thought disgusted him, really. Him showing emotional weakness was not something he could afford. It usually ended badly for someone like him...and the people that tried to get close. Still, why was she suddenly so concerned with the fact that he had said her name? Didn't he call her by name plenty of times? Thinking back, he realized he hadn't. He only called her by her pet name, Lamb, something he associated with food and how cute she appeared at times. No wonder her thoughts were reeling from the fact it was the first time he said her name. Now it boggled him as well.

"Bah," he said, confusing his companion.

Before Rita could ask him, the cave suddenly rumbled with the sound of a booming...well, something. They weren't sure what it was, but it had shifted the mood considerably, and the magma brightened. On guard, Wolfe stood closer to Rita in a protective stance without thinking about it. If it came to it, Wolfe would demand she climb back on and they get the hell out of here, but this was the end point of her mission, and knew she wouldn't leave willingly so soon.

The voice that boomed out, bouncing off the walls, was thick with age, wisdom, and crankiness, "Who dares tread into _my_ domain and expect an audience? Leave at once, or I will be forced to snack on your bones!"

Both Rita and Wolfe looked around. Even with Wolfe's super-hearing, he couldn't pinpoint the source of the voice due to the interference of the echoes. Dragons were fearsome and regal creatures for a reason. No one—emphasis on _no one_—fucked with a dragon unless they had means to do so. Even then, that was a bleeding challenge. Not even werewolves could match the awesome might of these creatures. They were untameable and powerful, as well as annoyingly moral. Wolfe avoided Dragon Domains at all costs. He was many things, but Wolfe was not stupid enough to brave a dragon. Even now, he struggled to keep from trembling under Rita's hand. Lest she knew, he would seem weak, and it was not the way he wished to appear right now, especially in his vulnerable state.

"If it gets rough, climb on my back," he instructed.

Rita nodded then paused, hearing a sound. Claw scratching stone, disturbing the rock as small pebbles fell. They both looked up, spotting a shadow with piercing gold eyes staring at them. Once spotted, the creature dropped from the ceiling, diving into the magma, causing a large splash. Wolfe grabbed the back of Rita's clothes with his teeth, leaping away to land atop one of the columns, releasing her once again. He growled, now annoyed with the rude welcome. The creature emerged from the fiery depths, black talons latching onto the spit of sizzling land. Rita took her first good look at a typical dragon. He was a slender but very large and tall beast with red scales that shimmered gold in a certain light, spiked with black horns that served as a typical crown for dragons. He was the proud owner of his own wings, bent to latch onto land as well. His tail swished back and forth from beneath the magma, the end armed with spikes.

"Away with you both—I do not give audience to trespassers!"

Wolfe growled again, "Maybe you should learn some manners, you old lizard!"

A rumbling growl emitted from the dragon's chest, echoing off the walls, "And perhaps _you_ should learn to hold your tongue, _werewolf_!" He smacked his 'lips' in a strange mannerism that indicated annoyance. "That is, if you can manage it." He leaned back slightly, towering further above them. "I do not take kindly to your kind trespassing. You are merely a snack compared to the many others I've faced!"

"You think I fear something like you?" Wolfe taunted. "Okay, I'll admit, I was anxious when I came in here, but now you just piss me off."

"Wolfe," Rita soothed, touching his fur, which he seemed to relax under.

The canine snorted, "Let's go; I doubt he'd be much help to you anyway."

"We came all this way, Wolfe. I'm not going to turn back now. Besides, I'm sure he's reasonable."

The large beast watched the odd and rare exchange between a human and werewolf, then noticed the garb that adorned the girl. "You there—human girl..." She blinked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

"The Red Cloak of Yavi'thil," she confirmed.

The dragon released a pleasant sigh, his piercing gold eyes softening to a warm yellow. "You bear the cloak; therefore, you must have come from the Elves' domain." He barely spared Wolfe a glance. "I wondered how you managed to keep a leash on this mongrel, but now it's clear."

"Careful, old man," Wolfe warned darkly. "There's always a first time for a dragon to be slain by a wolf."

"Mind your threats, unless you are looking to be in my stomach!"

"Wolfe," Rita said again, hoping he'd back off.

He growled, "He started it." She gave him a look. "What?"

"Really; you're going to be childish?"

"Cloak-bearer, I must insist that he leave my lair. No one but you should know the extent of the cloak's...abilities."

"I'm well aware of one already!" Wolfe snarled, indicating to his paw.

Rita winced, knowing that subject was a sore topic for her companion still. "Wolfe, it's okay. I'll be out in awhile."

He hesitated then conceded after some consideration. "Alright, but I'll be able to hear and smell anything amiss." Seeing the surprised look on her face, he quickly amended, "Don't think too much on it. If anyone is going to kill you, it'll be me." Her face sobered and he was satisfied after his half-hearted answer. "I'll be waiting. Just call if you need me."

Rita watched as Wolfe left, leaping down from the column and out of the cavern in a casual stride after one last growl at the fiery reptile. Another click was made by the dragon and Rita turned to him. "What name do you go by, human?"

"Rita Reid," she replied.

"Lady Rita," he began, then spread his wings. "I am Samael, the Lord of Fire, and keeper of the Red Cloak's secrets." His wings folded up again, leaning his head closer to her, taking a sniff. "I can tell you are indeed the one chosen by the cloak. Tell me, m'lady, what powers have been made known to you thus far?"

Rita took a moment to think. "When I was attacked by Wolfe...it erected a barrier and nearly tore his hand apart, and then it put matching rings on both of us. When he tried to attack me again, he collapsed, paralyzed."

"And?" he prodded.

"Yesterday," she began, trying to find the words, "I was hanging off the edge and I didn't have the strength to pull myself back up, but when I felt desperate, I did. That might have been nothing but adrenaline though."

"Adrenaline, pish-posh!" Rita looked at the old dragon. "I will explain as much as I can about the cloak. The cloak is both a shield and a weapon. It will serve only one master. However, even that garb has its limits and...loopholes. Indeed, it is powerful, but you cannot rely solely on its power. You must learn to control it, and to do that, you must embrace your destiny. I sense much doubt and despair in you. You have not fully accepted who you are." The sombre expression confirmed this for him. "I will not tell a soul of your woes. Please..." he urged softly.

Oddly, she knew he told the truth. Everyone knew that dragons were the best guardians, be it treasure or secrets. "My mother died when I was young, and I've hated my father for it ever since. She used to read the story of Little Red Riding Hood to me every night, and ever since she died, the fairy tale I once loved and obsessed over...I just wanted to forget it. Still, I always wore something that had a red hood on it. I don't know why."

"Don't you?" he asked, earning a questioning look from her. "You have always felt a connection to the cloak, and the fairy tale. I remember a man that came to Arda over three-hundred years ago. His name was Charles Perrault."

"That name—the original author of Little Red Riding Hood." She frowned. "I never really liked the ending of that one. She and her grandmother was eaten but never rescued by the woodcutter."

"The version you're fond of is by Brothers Grimm, correct? I don't believe there's a single fairy tale that ended happily ever after in its original pages. Some are bloody and all have elements of darkness. In this case, it is the wolf you must be wary of."

"Wolfe? But, he doesn't seem like a bad guy. Sure, he threatens to kill me, but I don't think he'd go through with it. He's...been kinder."

"Lady Rita, all forms of stories has an element of truth to them. What do you know of the Grimm version, something that sets it apart from the others?"

Rita thought about it. "I don't know, there are so many different versions, but—there are two wolves," she realized, Samael nodding. "Then, the darkness you're all anticipating is a...werewolf?" He nodded again. "No problem then. Get a bunch of silver and he's out of the picture."

"No, it is not as simple as that, my dear girl. It's much more complicated. The cloak has a purpose, you have a destiny, and the werewolf we speak of is no ordinary wolf. In fact, he is a creature even dragons fear. I will tell you a tale of the war that happened three centuries ago."

Rita looked at her feet then sat on the ground, hugging her legs. "I'm listening."

"Three hundred years ago, it was foretold by an Elven priestess that a human girl would come to Arda to save Yavi'thil from destruction and darkness. This priestess took her own hair and began to thread a cloak together, made under the light of a full moon. To balance the magic within the fabric, it was brought to the dragons. One offered their blood to dye and finish it."

When he raised his hand, claws outstretched, Rita gasped at the sight of a light scar that cut across the palm. "It was your blood?"

He nodded once. "It soaked in my blood for an entire moon cycle. When it dried, it was—and is—the most powerful weapon than any sword or arrow. It's so powerful, that it drew the attention of the Wolf King himself."

"Draug," said Rita, another nod from the beast.

"As a Wolf King, he could sense its power. He knew he could not use its magic, but he would take it regardless. He summoned an endless army of wolves, killing all that stood in his way, bringing chaos and destruction, as well as despair. Not even the dragons were of help in the war. When he finally had his clutches on the cloak, he knew there was a way to use it without being the chosen bearer."

"What?" she exclaimed. "How would he have be able to do that?"

"By devouring you," he answered. "By absorbing you, he becomes the bearer, giving him the right to use the cloak's power."

"And that's the loophole you spoke of," she realized. "And it applies for everyone else as well?"

"Yes. Somehow, he just knew that fact by simply holding it. Arda knows that the idea pleased him. Still, he would have had to wait three-hundred years for you to finally come to Arda. That would have given him plenty of time to secure his hold over Yavi'thil. However, we need not fear Draug, for he was slain by a human—a woodcutter. This man was in fact devoted to the priestess as her guardian. Doing his duty, he died with the Wolf King. However, it is apparent that Draug's legacy continues."

"What do you mean?"

"Once you've learned to harness the power of the cloak, you will have shadows following you everywhere. They've been spotted ever since your arrival. As a dragon, I sense the going-ons in this world, and yours. They are fearful creatures, and only light and the power of your cloak can defeat them. It is what made them difficult to fight in the past. But that is not all; you know that werewolves cannot turn humans." She nodded. "The Wolf King can. And they turn into the next King. It is possible Draug had bitten someone before his downfall, or he had offspring we were unaware of." He sighed, "Take care when facing the new king. Only he is able to control the darkness that still plagues these lands. That very darkness also corrupts the hearts of men."

"What about the Black Riders?"

"They are a group of soldiers, corrupt from that darkness. Their mission is to find you and take you to their general, being the King. That is why the law is in place. You, who is foreign to this world, being unaware of such a law, would then be tricked into wearing the cloak. However, seeing as your destiny is a dangerous one, you have no choice but to wear it in the open. It is your only protection. You must never take it off."

After a moment of consideration, she nodded. "Alright, I won't take it off. Still, how am I supposed to _harness the cloak_?"

The dragon chuckled, "Sometimes it works by itself. For instance, no mere human would be able to stand, let alone breathe in a place like this."

Now that she thought about it, why was she still breathing? This close to the hottest substance known to mankind, she probably would have been burned by now, or on fire. Wolfe she could understand, being a werewolf and all. "How is this possible?"

"The cloak protects its wearer, especially from fire. After all, it was dyed in the blood of a fire dragon—the Lord of Fire himself." Her shock had him laughing, shaking the walls. "You are immune to any flame as long as you wear that cloak. Consider it made of dragon scales."

"Holy shit," she breathed in awe. "So...I could fall in that magma, and I'd be fine?"

"I said flame, not lava. Like I said, even the cloak has its limits."

"Right," she said, feeling stupid now. "What else can it do?"

"As you know, it has the ability to tame a beast; in this case, a werewolf. He won't feel any differently about you if you've made him angry, but he'll think twice before laying a claw on you. Also, you two will be bound until you decide to remove the ring on your finger. His powers will be limited unless you allow him full access to his strength."

"It's not like I've been grounding him," she remarked.

"It will still limit him to some extent though. However, as a tamed beast, he will be obliged to protect you. He is now part of your physical protection set by the cloak. That garb cannot fight for you, but will find ways to shield you. It chose a worthy guardian. If he fails in his task and you meet with death, he will die along with you."

That stopped her heart for a moment. "What? That's not fair to him—or anybody! I should be the only one responsible for my own life. Not Wolfe, not Felix—me!" She was standing again as if to take a stand against such words. "Yeah, I'm scared of this whole risking my life to save Arda thing, but they're not obligated to protect me! They're just helping me find my way. If I could fight, I would!"

"You needn't worry, Lady Rita. Someone has been tracing your steps, eager to serve you. It's true, one is responsible for their own life, but yours is far too precious and you cannot tread this path alone. Besides, you can remove the ring at any time, but be wary of his intentions. Once it is removed, you cannot replace it, for that thread will dissolve. You can only tame one beast at a time."

"Another limit," she muttered.

"Indeed."

"Who's the one following me?" she asked.

He hesitated, but thought she'd find out later soon anyway. "A Shade follows you from the Order of Dae. It is a league of assassins. This Shade will provide you invaluable knowledge, and serve as a willing guardian for you. Though they are from the Dae, they stand apart from it. Their morals are their own, and they wish to help you. I sense that they will appear to you soon. They are the rare trusted few who are knowledgeable of the cloak's abilities. I will teach you two, for this stranger will teach you the others. These will prepare you for the time being until you meet."

Assassins? Arda just kept getting better and better, Rita thought bitterly. "Alright...what do you have to teach me?"

He raised one claw. "First, you must raise your shield, and second, you must learn the power to invoke. To raise your invisible shield, you must picture protecting yourself. Your shield is no mere cloak, but a wall of impenetrability. Give it a try," he urged.

She blinked but just stood there. "I don't get it. How am I supposed to raise a shield?"

He chuckled, expecting as much. "Your shield must have a form to take the shape of. What shape did it take when that brute attacked you?"

"Just a simple dome, I think."

"A very simple shape... When you're more confident, you'll be able to think of more complicated and stronger shapes. For instance, a line of soldiers."

"What kind of soldiers? You mean like Spartans?"

"Whatever your heart feels strongest. It is just an example though. You can also think of a hard substance."

"Like diamonds?"

He chuckled at her eagerness, "Exactly. Now, give it a try," he repeated. "If it makes it easier, say it aloud, but do not get used to doing it that way, otherwise you'd be tipping off your opponent."

Nodding, Rita planted her feet, taking in a deep breath. While Wolfe stood outside the cavern, sitting, end of his tail tapping against the ground, he was suddenly startled by a large noise from inside, jumping to all fours. It sounded like a whip breaking the sound barrier, like lightning, combined with the destruction of...something. Concerned, Wolfe ran back into the cave at full speed. Though his instincts told him nothing wrong happened, he ignored them, thinking the dragon had done something to his ward. He skidded to a stop inside the large cavern, noticing that Rita was unharmed and standing tall, a telltale sparking of red surrounding her. Around her was rocky debris that was still sizzling, even the floor of the column beneath her feet cracked a little.

Samael laughed, shaking the cave once more. "Well done! Shields come naturally to you, Lady Rita, but that was the easy part. The second lesson will take much more time to master. You will have to practise it on your travels."

"The power to invoke, right?" she asked.

"Yes, this is a basic you must learn before you are taught anything else. To invoke is a different kind of magic, but a powerful one. It is your offensive magic."

"Will I be able to summon wind and lightning?"

"It is not elemental," he replied with another rumbling laugh. "Invoke is a sort of summoning magic, but that's only part of it. It is a basic, and a complicated magic. There is a part of it that is a forbidden magic as well. Only true masters of it can handle it. Elder practitioners can use it, and the Chosen Four."

"Chosen Four?" she repeated.

"Yes," he replied. "As you may already know, there are four books that serve as portals between this world, and your world. However, only one person may pass through each book. You have gone through one of these books."

Rita looked at her hands. "So, I'm one of these Chosen Four?"

Samael nodded, stretching his wings some. "You are the first to arrive. The other three, chosen, like you, will come here when their time comes and you must fight together. However, that is not now." He sniffed then growled with another click of his maw. "That wolf boy is here again!"

Rita turned toward the exit, finding Wolfe there. It felt odd, but she felt comfortable with the brute around. She smiled softly, which Wolfe spotted, his ears folding back in surprise at the genuine appearance in her features. It was like she was glad he was there, but why? Straightening up to regain his composure, he turned to the dragon.

"It took you long enough to notice. I guess dragons don't have a wolf's sense of smell. If it were me, I would have noticed you miles away," he boasted then sat down. "Besides, I heard a noise. I thought, maybe, you had gone with your nature and try to burn the Little Lamb to cinders."

Another click from Samael, and he rumbled angrily, "I'll show you cinders, you insignificant mongrel!"

"Wait!" Rita cried. "Just ignore him. He tends to run at the mouth, and half the time he pisses me off too."

The dragon snorted, stilling the flame that threatened to burst forth at the offending creature before him. "Very well... Learn well from Lady Rita's example, boy. It may end up saving your life." As Wolfe growled, Samael turned to Rita. "Now, to use Invoke, you may learn a summoning spell for now; for example, a weapon. Tell me Rita, what weapon do you see yourself wielding."

Wolfe watched in fascination as Rita thought it over. It was plainly obvious that she never thought about it before. "May I make a suggestion?" Rita looked over and nodded. "I think if you want to wield a weapon, logically a long-range weapon would be ideal for your current skill level."

"Like a bow and arrow?" He nodded and she thought it over. "I'll try that."

"Very well," said Samael, perplexed by how she took the boy's suggestion so easily. "Like with the shield, picture it in your mind, hold it in your hands, and make it real."

For the longest time, she simply stood there with her eyes closed. All was quiet, and Wolfe watched anxiously as she outstretched her hands some, a red spark or two forming in her hands. Samael stared in shock that she was able to grasp the concept, but now she only to make the form. Just when the two beasts thought she was close to summoning the bow, her face scrunched up, and she released a gasp of held breath, the forming image dissolving to nothing. There was sweat formed on her brow, but it was not from her surroundings, but the exertion. The look of defeat on her face was priceless, and Wolfe laughed heartily.

Oddly enough, Samael shared his amusement. "I wouldn't fret, my dear. The magic is old and difficult to master. Aside from that, you did very well on your first time." His wings stretched once more and relaxed against the ground. "However, staying here to train yourself is unwise. If you wish to avoid those that seek your power, moving on is recommended. Keep practising."

Despite her failed attempt, Rita was glad of Samael's praise. She looked up at the dragon. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"I would suggest travelling around and doing a little exploring, but if you need a destination, I would suggest going to see the Order of Dae. They cannot be located, except by those of the Order. The one that shadows you will reveal themselves soon enough to aid you in that respect. Now, you must leave immediately."

Feeling awkward, Rita wasn't sure whether to curtsey or bow. "Thank you for what you have taught me."

"It was my pleasure, but do not let the past consume you. In the end, your life may depend on it. Until we meet again, m'lady," he said, submerging beneath the liquid fire.

Wolfe walked up close to the column, just as Rita was about to jump off, catching her on his back and immediately walking out. "What'd he say to you—anything useful?"

"Remember the barrier that nearly tore your hand apart?" He flinched, pausing in mid-stride. "I learned how to use it now."

He remained silent until he exited the cave and into marginally fresher air. "Get off me, woman. I need to stretch my legs."

"You could have said 'please,'" she muttered, sliding off his back. "We should go find Felix and keep going."

"If you say so," he said, misting back into the form of a man...a naked man. Her shriek of shock made him grin ear to ear. "What? You've never seen a naked man?"

Furious heat rose mercilessly to her cheeks as she turned away. "What happened to your pants?!" she cried, ignoring his question.

"It's why you haven't seen me in my wolf form till now. My clothes tend to disappear. Just like how I shed fur when I turn into a man, I shed clothes the opposite way."

"Maybe if they were torn off when you shifted, that would make sense! Clothes don't just disappear!"

He shrugged, strutting off past her, forcing her to cover her eyes. "Magic of Arda, I suppose. Who said anything had to make sense?"

"I do! I don't want to see your naked arse all the time!"

"Would you rather see the front?" he teased, his feet stopping, a flirtatious smirk on his lips when he looked over his shoulder at her. "Relax, I stuffed an extra pair of pants in your purse there."

"Is that why it feels so full?" She blinked, ignoring his challenge as she pulled out the pants. "When did you get the pants?" she asked, throwing them at Wolfe.

"I tend to loot men I kill of their clothes and money. Now...answer my question."

"What was that?" she asked, turning away as he pulled on the pants.

"Would you rather see the front?"

She scowled, "You're so intolerable!" He laughed, enjoying every second of her embarrassment.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait. I hardly get the computer anymore between my mom being awake and hogging it, and me working most of the time. HOWEVER, my mom reserved a laptop for me and is going to go get it while I'm at work tomorrow, so I'll be able to write more often! The hours I get at work will still bog me down, but at least you guys won't have to wait as long. So that's my great news! Also, I've been giving a weekly news update on my profile page, which also shows how far along I am in the next chapter for stories I am writing, so feel free to check that often. Anyway, till next chapter!


	6. CHVI The Calm Before the Storm

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

**CHAPTER VI – The Calm Before the Storm**

The woman couldn't be any more aggravating, Wolfe mused bitterly. As he walked along, wearing nothing but pants, Rita stole a glance at him every now and then, staring guiltily at his back in awe. Though he had lied with many women, he never took a virgin. It caused problems for both parties. Still, the way Rita stared at him caused an irritating itch between his shoulder blades. Not only was he annoyed with her, he was tempted to break his personal rule about taking virgins. It didn't help that his blood was boiling from the approaching full moon that would occur in three nights.

Three nights before a full moon always felt nauseating. Three nights after the impending full circle just felt like a hangover. He was proud of being a werewolf, but he always dreaded that week. He was hornier, hungrier, and angrier. Wolfe could have done without knowing what it felt like to be a woman when she was in her cycle.

It took awhile before he realized that Rita was calling him. "WHAT?!" She stopped, shocked at his outburst. "What the fuck do you want so god damn early in the morning?!"

The girl would have pointed out that it was actually the middle of the day, but decided that he probably didn't want or need that at the moment. He looked...tense. "Did you want me to get you anything while we're in the next town? Felix said one's close by. Spare clothes? Food? Shoes?"

He blinked, then forced himself to calm down. "Meat. Lots of meat. Raw."

Rita resisted making a face, but remembered how close the full moon was. "Okay. What size are you?"

He stared in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"What?" she asked, quite confused.

"What size am I?"

"For...clothes?" she clarified with small uncertainty.

He blinked again. "Oh...I thought you meant—never mind." He scratched the back of his head in thought. "I don't know. I never shopped for myself. I always just loot clothes off dead men."

"That's unsanitary," she quipped, searching her bag for something. "Felix, do you have any long string?"

"Sorry Rita, I don't."

"What do you need string for?" Wolfe asked curiously.

"To measure." Sighing, she a shoe lace from one of her boots and took that fancy pen Wolfe always saw her writing with. At least, he thought she called it a pen. He always thought writing utensils were called quills. "Hold out your arms," she instructed.

"Why?"

"So I can measure you, stupid." He growled, but Rita only smiled, which made him falter in his threat. Finally, he did as she asked, feeling ridiculous. While measuring all the lengths and widths of him, a short and small giggle bubbled out of her before she could stop it.

"What?"

"Nothing," she lied, unable to help the grin even as she bit her bottom lip.

"Tell me," he demanded. "You laughing at me? I knew it...I look ridiculous."

She laughed again, "It's not that. I was just picturing what you would look like in my grandmother's clothes." He gaped. "It just popped in there!"

"So, I don't look ridiculous, but you're picturing me looking ridiculous. I feel so much better," he said dryly, something close to an aggravated pout on his face.

"I'm sorry," she managed, unable to contain the giggles that kept bursting forth. "Just mixing elements together that reminded me of the book."

"The one about you?"

"It's not about me," she denied, "but yes, that one."

He sat down on a tree stump as she measured his foot. "What's it say anyway? I heard stories of the cloak-bearer, but you seem to get a different version of it."

Rita marked the string and sat back on her legs on the ground. "The short synopsis is that a little girl wearing a red capped hood is sent to her grandmother's house with a basket of goodies. She meets the Big Bad Wolfe along the way and tells him where she's going. He gets to the house ahead of her, eats the grandmother, dresses up in her clothes, and tricks Little Red."

Wolfe's brow arched slightly at the cross-dressing bit. "How'd he trick her?"

"There's a famous bit in the story that goes like this..." She cleared her throat before reciting, "_Oh grandmother, what big ears you have! __**All the better to hear you with, my child.**__ But grandmother, what big eyes you have! __**All the better to hear you with, my dear. **__But grandmother, what large hands you have! __**All the better to hug you with. **__Oh, but grandmother!_" she said finally, pausing for effect. "_What a terrible big mouth you have!_" Another pause. "_**All the better to eat you with!**_" Wolfe looked amused by how serious she looked when she imitated the wolf, and how sweet and innocent when she took on the little girl's role. "And that..." she began, "is when the Big Bad Wolf swallowed her up—but that's just one version. In the one I grew up with, a woodcutter comes along and opens up the wolf while he's sleeping, rescuing the girl and her grandmother, filling the wolf with stones so he'd die. In the end, another wolf came along and he was tricked by the girl and her grandmother, now wary of wolves."

The face he made was a sign of disturbance. "This is a children's tale?"

"The first known copy was written by Charles Perrault. His version didn't include a woodcutter, so in the end, the wolf won. I told you about the Brothers Grimm version. They're more well known."

Even Felix looked disturbed. "Scary..."

"Why stones?" Wolfe asked out of the blue.

Rita blinked at the question. "I don't know, honestly. I guess stones are convenient."

Felix flittered about the air in thought, and blinked. "Actually, there's something called a fairy stone. I've never seen one, since they're one of the rarest things in existence. I hear they're magic. I just don't know what they do. None of my people do."

"Why are they called fairy stones then?" Wolfe asked incredulously.

The fairy huffed. "You suspect me of lying?!"

Wolfe smirked. "I always heard you bugs were a bunch of tricksters."

"I'm done," Rita said before Felix could bite back at the beast man, standing up. "If you want, you can stick around here till we get back. I figure we might be a few hours."

"Alright then," Wolfe said with a stretch and a yawn. "I can finally have some peace and quiet while you're gone."

"Nobody told you to come along," she said dismissively, walking away with Felix close behind.

"Tch..." he said irritably.

Once his ward was gone, he went to lay under a tree. However, no matter how comfortable he was, he just couldn't keep still. Hands clasped over his sternum, an ankle on a knee, bouncing a little, and more quickly as time went on. He groaned and growled softly, growing more impatient. With what, he knew, but didn't want to think about it. Three more nights, and he'd be forced to truly turn into a monster, the kind that people were terrified of. He dare not tell Rita about it. Part of him felt like she would send him away if she knew. He'd disappear—yeah, that's what he would do. He'd keep away from her, hide his true self. Honestly, he liked how she stared at him. It wasn't the same as the women he had bedded before, no. Rita was different. Perhaps it was the cloak's binding on him that was forcing him to feel drawn to her, but at the moment, he didn't care.

Growling loudly this time, he jumped to his feet and ran off at high speed, stopping when he leaped into hiding in a tree, perched like a predator upon the branch, barely strong enough to hold his weight. For what seemed like hours when it was only a moment, a stag came along, grazing the grass, unaware of his visitor. Wolfe watched for awhile, making sure that the deer had no suspicions of his presence before finally leaping for it. The rustling of the leafs perked the deer's hearing, leaping just out of reach and galloping off. Grinning, Wolfe ran after it. Though he could easily catch it, he wanted to play with his food first.

The deer was determined, but he was slowing down, worn down by the chase. Having enough, Wolfe leaped upon it, a cry coming forth from the animal just before stumbling to the ground, flailing its antlers around in an attempt to defend itself. But it was to no avail as Wolfe caught each branch and used it as leverage to break its neck, giving it a merciful death. Panting, Wolfe stared at the slain beast, his breath shuddering with the adrenaline, till finally, he feasted upon his kill, eyes flashing under the shade of the trees, blood glittering on his body.

* * *

Rita and Felix travelled along the cobblestone streets, wandering the marketplace filled with so much colour. She looked around, as much food as she could carry, using the cloak as a sack, remembering old storybook characters that had sacks on sticks, but she merely slung it over her shoulder. Felix went to socialize with some female fairies he spotted sitting on top of the merchant tarps while Rita stared at some clothes. She figured cheap would be best considering the fact Wolfe's clothes disappear when he transforms, unless he stripped before doing that.

Green pools spotted an outfit in an actual glass shop window. Intrigued, she went inside, unaccustomed to the sound of a bell ringing, startling her slightly. She looked around at the outfits pre-made, obviously a tailor shop. Finally, her eyes stopped upon a nice looking dress. A design she didn't expect in a world like this, it had a fairy-like quality to it, white fading to a mixture of red and orange, shimmering gold like it was made from fire, or the richly coloured leafs of autumn, the skirt in a layered ripply-like handkerchief style. The bodice was laced in the back with gold ribbon, and if worn, would have hugged the breasts, thin gold ribbons serving as straps, crossing over in the back.

"See something you like, young lady?" came an elderly man's voice. Coming out of the back room, he chuckled at her startled expression. "My apologies. I didn't realize how entranced you were with my work."

"You made this?" she asked, awed, looking back at the dress. "It's beautiful."

"It would look better with you wearing it. Why don't you try it on?"

She gushed, "Oh, no, thank you, I can't. I just came here to get some clothes for someone else."

"Do you want to regret not trying this on for the rest of your life?" he prompted kindly.

Sorely tempted, she said, "I...suppose it wouldn't hurt to try it on. I don't have to buy it, do I?"

He laughed, "No, no, you can just try it on and the temptation will be satisfied."

She smiled, convinced. "Okay, just for a minute though." He led her to a change room then brought the dress to her. Upon touching it, she nearly gasped at the smooth and light feel of it. After a moment, she came out, doing a small twirl in front of a mirror. Oddly enough, she wasn't one for dresses, but part of her felt the urge to keep it. "Oh god...it's lovely." The old man clasped his hands together with pride and a slight redness to his cheeks with the compliment, pleased she thought so fondly of it. Changing back, she came out, almost afraid to hold the dress as she gave it back to the tailor. "Whoever buys that is lucky."

"Ha ha, I thank you very much. You're the first girl to try it on. Everyone else was afraid of putting it on because of how lovely it is." He hung it back up gingerly. "Now, how can I help you?"

Remembering what she came in here for, she said, "Um...you wouldn't happen to have clothes that are...magical, would you? Ones that can't disappear?" He blinked. "I mean ones that can't be lost," she amended.

He laughed heartily. "Oh, my dear child! Does your lover keep losing his pants?"

Rita's face sobered to that of embarrassment and annoyance. "He ain't my lover, but yeah...his pants have a tendency to disappear."

"I don't have anything magical here, I'm afraid," he said, his laughter dissipating, "but, I do have clothes that do not stain. Do you have his size?"

Rita removed her shoe lace. "I have this. I didn't have measuring tape."

The old man listened as she explained how she measured Wolfe, nodding every now and then. "Ah, I think I have something already made that could be of good size for your friend. Here..."

He led her to one of the outfits on display in the window, a conveniently all black outfit with silver accents. It consisted of a black button up shirt with slightly baggy sleeves tucked into leather zip-up bracers with the silver accents and a couple of buckles, and a matching leather zip-up vest with lapels and buckles on the front. On the vest was an intricate design of swirling thin vines, protruding outwards so one could feel the difference as opposed to the design being stamped into the material. The pants were simple, loose, but tight enough not to be baggy and allow easy movement. The boots reached the knees, having the same buckles as the vest, with zippers in the back of the boots to allow easy removal. It just screamed Wolfe.

"It's perfect!" she cried out enthusiastically. "How much?"

The old man smiled mysteriously then said, "The price on the sign says 50 gold." Her expression faded to disappointment. She didn't have that much. She only had forty. Seeing her expression, he warmly smiled at her. "For you, I'll take off seventy-five percent."

She blinked in shock. "Why? You gotta make money!"

"Something tells me you need it," he said simply, his smile never faltering. "Besides, nothing else is cheaper than that outfit in my shop."

Rita felt uncomfortable about the discount, but his kindness was convincing enough, returning his smile. "Thank you."

"Let me just wrap this up for you."

Once she paid for it, she thanked him again, not even noticing that the dress was missing from display and that she had gotten an extra parcel. Leaving, Felix noticed her and said goodbye to his kin, flying off. "Hey Rita, did you find anything?"

She smiled. "I did. Let's get back before Wolfe gets impatient." As she turned towards the town's gate, she bumped into the woman in black, stammering, "Oh, s-sorry about that! You okay?"

The hooded figure stared down at her, making Rita shrink slightly, but she only smiled before grasping her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze as she leaned in close. "The full moon is drawing close. Be wary of your companion and those like him."

Rita was frozen as the woman walked away. Snapping out of it, she called out to her. "Wait! What are you—she's gone..." she trailed off, not seeing anyone resembling the stranger. Felix blinked as Rita stared up at him. "Where did she go?" He shook his head, just as shocked as her at the disappearance. Deciding she'd worry about it later, she said, "Let's go."

* * *

By the time Rita got back, she was worried. In the back of her mind, she was well aware of the night of the full moon, but she was ignoring it. Still, she had noticed how anxious Wolfe had become since yesterday. Maybe his mood would lighten up after his nap that she suspected he would have had while they were gone. Finding the area with the tree stump, she saw no Wolfe, her heart skipping a beat with anxiety.

"Where'd he go?" Felix asked.

"Maybe I hurt his feelings earlier," Rita said almost sadly. "Maybe about what I said about him never have been invited."

"Don't say such heartbreaking words. I might cry," came a husky voice from behind a tree.

Rita's head shot up and around, spotting Wolfe. "You're still here."

"Why wouldn't I be? I told you I would stick around until you freed me." His tone was so dry, that it soaked up all the moisture from Rita's throat. Standing up, he stalked over casually, his pupils tinier than usual, as if he was focused upon something. "Ready to go?"

Rita swallowed hard, bothered by the cool of his voice. "Not yet. I, uh...bought you some clothes."

He showed no expression, but after a moment, he held out his hand. "I see. Does seeing me like this bother you that much? Am I hideous?"

His question shocked her. "No! There's nothing wrong with how you look, it's just...distracting," she managed, blushing a little.

That seemed to lighten up his expression a little, relieving her. "Oh...so you love looking at me."

Her eyes veered away to avoid looking at him. "I didn't say anything."

Once he unwrapped the clothes, he blinked in astonishment. "I'm surprised you didn't get me something girly." His smile was wicked as he stared at her. "If you wanted to fuck, you could have just asked."

His jest flared the anger right out of her. "I DON'T WANT TO DO SUCH A THING! You're intolerable!" Despite his comment and the laughter he issued now, she was relieved by it, feeling calmer with this type of behaviour from him than when he seemed so cold and calculating. "Besides, what does buying you clothes have to do with anything?!"

"Because they're such high quality clothes. And I thought you didn't like me very much. You realize they'll just disappear, right?"

"Not if you don't transform. If you _must_ shape-shift, at least take them off first." He blinked and grinned boyishly. "OH MY GOD! SHUT UP! That's not what I meant! I'm not interested in your strip shows, you pervert!"

His grin remained until he opened the tiniest parcel, blinking. "I thought you were kidding about me being in dresses."

"What?" Looking at the dress in his hands, she shrieked, "OH MY GOD! DID I STEAL THAT?! No...I'm sure I didn't!"

"Relax," Wolfe said, "there's a note here for you. It says _Young Lady_ on the front."

Snatching it out of his hand, she opened it. _Dear young lady. Please accept this dress as a token of my gratitude for your arrival. Something in my heart told me you were important and I felt obligated to give you a gift. I see how brilliant your smile is, but it is not easy for you. I can tell you will have a hard journey ahead of you and I wish you luck and happiness._ She closed it, remaining silent.

Wolfe stood up, holding up the dress in small surprise. "Well, you don't see this sort of thing every day." Rita soon snatched that out of his hands, earning her a mischievous grin. "Show me how it looks."

"You just want to peep on me, you pervert! Besides, I got no reason to wear this! Do you see me going to parties or festivals when we're pressed for time?!"

"You don't even know if you have little time," he pointed out. "We're just supposed to find this Order of Dae, right?"

She faltered. "Yeah, but...we can't find it unless one from the Order finds us first."

Wolfe crouched down, grabbing his new garments and looking them over. "For what it's worth, thank you. They're very nice. I probably won't have them long, but that doesn't change the fact that they're nice." And he left for the shadow of the woods to go change, leaving behind a shocked Rita and Felix.

"Did he just say thank you?" she asked.

"I must be losing my hearing," Felix replied in awe.

Night came and Wolfe had wordlessly set up a fire, muscles tense under the light of the growing moon. Felix had fallen asleep on a branch where Rita had her sleeping spot picked, hugging her legs as she stared at the fire while her guardian poked at the wood with a stick. Green eyes glanced at his back, noticing how tense he was, the woman's warning echoing in the back of her mind.

"Wolfe, you should get some sleep," she said softly.

"I'm fine," he bit off. "You sleep."

Frowning, she remained silent for awhile, continuing to watch him. Finally, she said, "Can I try something?" He looked over his shoulder with an arched brow, intrigued by her question. She stood up, coming up behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders. "Lean back," she instructed softly.

He growled, trying to shrug her off. "Don't," he warned.

She scoffed, scolding him, "When are you going to start trusting me?" The question shocked him a little, and after some hesitation, he reluctantly leaned back until his head was on her lap. "Comfy?"

"What are you up to?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Just shut up...stupid werewolf," she demanded softly before running fingers through his hair. Because his hair was so untamed, she actually had to pull some knots apart before successfully getting through his hair with a single swipe. "How does that feel?"

He was afraid of answering, even as his eyes drooped a little. With the feel of her fingers running over his scalp, it was like the canine part of him was begging for more. If he had been a cat, he'd be purring. "What magic is this?"

"Not magic," she stated, "just message therapy. You look like you need it right now." He did close his eyes then, relaxing just as she hoped he would. "How do the clothes feel?"

"They fit," he grunted.

"So you like 'em?"

"Yeah," he managed sleepily.

Rita smiled, continuing to stroke through his hair for the entire time. "Wolfe..." she whispered, about to ask if he was asleep before he interrupted her.

"Shut up...you're putting me to sleep. Don't ruin it," he scolded softly.

Regardless of his warning, she spoke anyway, only more softly, "Do you still hate me?"

Wolfe didn't answer, and for awhile, Rita thought he had fallen asleep, or was disregarding the question entirely, which that alone answered it. However, he barely mumbled out a, "No, I don't hate you."

The smile grew on her lips, glad for it. Once she knew he was asleep, she wiggled her legs out from under his head, supporting it in her hands. His response answered something else for her—a question she had rolled around in her thoughts since Samael made the fact known to her. The rings bound them together. If she died, so would Wolfe, because he had failed in his duty to protect her. It was like the cloak dished out the worst punishments. However, if she had removed her ring, she'd be vulnerable to him again, and the magic couldn't be redone if he so much as threatened her. That wasn't the case now. Wolfe didn't seem to hold a grudge over something so...miniscule. Perhaps he had forgiven her, and if it was any indication, he did save her life multiple times already.

Fingers stroked across his forehead, brushing aside black strands. "Goodnight."

* * *

While Wolfe slept peacefully with Rita's quiet words following him, calloused fingertips rubbed at the temple of their owner, irritated by the feeling of that headache served to it by the scrawny and ugly creature giving a man excuses. The beastly thing had almost no hair except for the random black greasy strands that reached its boney shoulders of clammy and freckled skin. He only wore a dirty white shirt with sleeves too long for his already long arms, a leather vest and ragged pants and no shoes. His teeth was jagged with some of them missing, nose huge and aquiline, eyes tiny and completely black. He wasn't the least bit attractive, but this goblin only cared to serve his master.

Before him was a man more than a man sitting relaxed in a large chair that would have been uncomfortable for most. Amber eyes glowing in the darkness of the room, his voice was foreboding and threatening in the most subtle way, "You come in here, giving me excuses that you cannot find one little girl, and expect me to be anything less than...put out by this report?"

"B-but master, the Riders are being killed off by a werewolf!"

After a moment of consideration, he said, "Bring him here." The goblin left quickly, and not a moment sooner, he came back, followed by a young hooded Rider. "This is the one that survived? He's practically a novice."

The creature kicked the young man in the chin. "Answer him! Tell him what you told me!"

The young knight stammered, "It was a w-werewolf, my lord. It was my first time meeting one, and Captain Zant was eager to have him captured. His orders was to kill him and take custody of the young woman that accompanied him."

The lord's eyes sharpened to points with fascination. "Woman?"

"Yes, I'm not sure why he wanted her. There was a rumour surrounding the captain about what he does to women who disobey the laws. This one committed the crime of wearing a red cloak. She also had this...defiant attitude that was uncharacteristic of any woman I ever met."

"This woman...do you recall her appearance?"

The young knight blinked, thinking. "Brown hair and green eyes. She wore a grey dress and had a fairy accompanying her."

The master turned his eyes to the goblin. "Why didn't you inform me of this information earlier?"

"I-I-I didn't know!" He turned his beady eyes on the Rider. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I don't answer to you," he replied simply.

"YOU BLASTED HUMAN! I'LL EAT YOUR BONES WHILE YOU WATCH!"

"ENOUGH," the man bellowed when the creature had proceeded to curse in his native tongue, instantly silencing the room. Slowly, he rose, his form lit only by the moonlight as he descended the short amount of stairs. "Trull...you have disappointed me countless times. Give me one good reason why I should spare you."

Trull backed up frantically. "M-master! I serve only you! Have I not been utterly devoted to you? I can still be of use to you! L-let me find the girl myself and bring her straight to you! I can put her to sleep with my sleep powder! The Riders have been useless up to this point!"

He laughed out bitterly, "A survivor of one werewolf attack has provided me with all the information I need from simply one encounter. You come here, snivelling excuses to me. I have been more than patient with you. You told me from day one not to worry about it, to sit back and relax. Now I am perfectly enlightened to how much of a fool you really are. This is why the Riders exist, because they get the job done, even if it costs them their lives. I will not take anymore of your excuses. You will only get one last chance. _If_ you succeed, you will be spared...for the moment. If not...you can imagine for yourself what will happen." Before Trull could stammer out a response, he said, "Get out." When Trull scrambled out with a shriek of terror, he turned to the boy. "You..."

"My lord?" he replied, standing tall at attention.

"You will accompany him. Find the girl and bring her here alive. She's useless to me otherwise."

"Yes, my lord. Um, if I may?" His master nodded. "We were also ambushed by some unseen attacker from deep within the woods. I find it strange that even though we had a party of twenty men, seven of which were hunters, very skilled in the art of stealth and long range attack, the arrows came from one direction, and nothing from the others. When I went to look for them, I found them all dead, their throats cut or stabbed."

The man before him merely tilted his head in thought. "This is interesting information. What is your name, boy?"

"It is Ansel, sir."

"Ansel," he began, "it's a possibility that someone from the Order of Dae is protecting the girl. I wouldn't suggest going head to head with one, as they are just as dangerous as a werewolf. Even if it is just one person, they are assassins known to take down ten men or more easily in a matter of seconds." He paced slowly, but stopped when an idea struck him. "Go see the Witch of Old. Tell her she'll be paid whatever she wants in the even she helps you deal with this Shade. Go now."

"Yes, my lord."

After Ansel left, the master was left alone to his thoughts. "Where are you Lady Red?" he muttered.

* * *

Time passed as Rita and her companions travelled at a more casual pace. To where, they didn't know. All Rita knew was that they had to keep moving to avoid the darkness that hunted her. However, she had another concern. It was now the night of the full moon. The last couple of days had affected Wolfe's attitude. He was irritable and paranoid, with that nagging rage and animalistic instinct poking and prodding at him. Wolfe's pre-moon nausea has dissipated, but his skin and blood burned. At night though, he calmed considerably as if exposure to some moonlight eased some of the pain. As night approached, it did not abate the ache this time—it only burned more, tempting him to claw at his skin. His muscles hurt from being tense. It had always been like this since he had hit puberty.

A couple of hours before moonrise, he stopped, turning to Rita. "Let's make camp."

"But it's still early," Felix admonished. "Don't tell me you're tired already!"

Wolfe growled at the fairy as Rita stared at Wolfe. "It's okay Felix. I could use a break."

The fairy gaped as Wolfe seemed satisfied with that and gathered firewood in ten seconds flat, not wanting to waste time. He sniffed, wood cradled in one arm, finding water not far from where they were. "If you want to take a bath, there's a lake nearby. Nobody's around anyway."

Knowing he was in no mood to be perverted with her, she only nodded. "Okay. Maybe I should clean my clothes too while I'm at it."

She left, and after an hour, Wolfe became mildly concerned. Why did women take so long to groom? All you had to do was jump in, scrub up, get out, dry off. Even washing clothes wouldn't have made her take this long. Growling impatiently, he got up to find her. Thankfully, she was still at the lake, so that relieved him a little. Exiting the thick trees, he found her crouched by the water, wearing that dress he had yet seen her in while washing her clothes. Upon closer inspection, when she stood up, showing the dress in all its glory, his throat constricted. Her hair was still damp, finger-combed and barely brushing her bare shoulders. He smelled a strange perfumed scent on her. Probably an Elvish bathing solution.

Clearing his throat, he said, "What's taking you so long?"

Her head shot up in shock, wet pants in her hands. Rita looked over herself, knowing she must have looked ridiculous wearing a fancy dress while doing laundry. "I-I-I...shut up! I'm being thorough!"

"Bloody hell woman," he muttered, coming over and stopping when she took a step away from him. At first, he mistook it as fear, but noticed the red stain on her cheeks. Embarrassment? "Why so flustered? Did you scrub too hard at your face?"

"No...I just...didn't want anybody to see me in this dress."

He tilted his head and approached closer. "Then why did you wear it?"

Backing away further, she replied, "Because I have nothing else to wear until these dry." Finally, her back hit a tree and she squeaked, dropping the wet pants. "Dammit," she groaned, "now I gotta wash 'em again."

As if mirroring their first meeting, he placed his hand on the tree beside her head, except his eyes didn't hold any mischief this time. They were soft, looking into her soul. "I was worried."

"You? Worried about me?" she asked breathlessly. Why was her heart pounding so damn hard? Any time he looked at her like she meant something, something she hadn't felt before rose up.

He looked her over, ignoring how his skin burned. "I don't why you're embarrassed. You look good in that dress."

"You're just saying that..."

"No," he denied immediately, "I'm not. You really do look..." he stopped himself from saying _delicious_, "...beautiful." The blush on her face seemed more appealing to him now. It was subtle and soft. "You _are_ beautiful, Rita. You also don't need a damn dress to prove it, but it looks good with you in it."

No guy ever talked to her like this. It was refreshing and maybe she did feel like a teenage girl with a crush, but it didn't matter—she couldn't deny that her crush was on Wolfe. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

He blinked at the sudden question and he hesitated. Staring into her eyes, he knew she genuinely wanted to know. "It's Damian."

"Damian," she tested, liking the sound of it. It had been awhile since he heard his first name said aloud. "There's something you should know, but you won't have to worry about it anymore."

He was afraid to know but he said, "What is it?"

She held up the hand with the ring on it, the jewel glinting in the dark. "Samael said that when you were bound to me, it also cursed you. If I died...you would die." Claws dug into the tree bark in small shock, the same shock he shot her with. "But I don't want you to die, especially not because of me. I don't care how precious I am to Yavi'thil—no one is responsible for my life but me."

He blinked in surprise. Was she going to release him then? "Rita..." he whispered. However, as she went to take off the ring, he panicked with a thought, placing his hand on hers. "No," he said swallowing hard.

"But, why? I thought you wanted freedom," she said, confusion evident.

"I do, but I'm..." he gritted his teeth, hating the word _afraid_. "Tonight, I'm going to change into a real monster. This may be the one thing that'll subdue me."

Rita stared at him. "You're afraid you'll hurt someone," she said softly. "But if I keep this on, you're risking your life, having you bound to my own!"

"Shut up dammit!" he shouted. "You think I don't get it? I _do_ understand! I'm not stupid!"

"You're acting stupid!" she shot back.

"Oh? I thought I was being noble for once! Well, if you trust me so damn much not to make a murderer of myself, then go ahead and take it off! The first person I'll end up killing is you, next will be that damn insect you call your friend, and after that might be an innocent, possibly a child!"

Rita had the most horrified expression on her face. Arda knew he hated the look she had, but he had to be firm and with no bars held. "I-I...I only..." she croaked.

His blue eyes softened. "Dammit," he cursed then leaned in close, shocking her, though he didn't do anything other than place his forehead on hers. "_If_ you really trust me, keep it on. If not for your own sake, at least do it for mine, and the sake of my damn sanity."

After a moment, the tears that threatened to surface finally went away and she nodded. "Okay, but only if you're absolutely sure."

"I'm positive," he replied. For the moment, he closed his eyes, remaining in that position with her. "Your head feels nice," he muttered. After awhile he finally backed away from her. "I should leave."

"Why?"

"The further I'm away from people, the less likely I'll hurt someone. The moon will rise soon, and I can already feel the change happening."

"Is it really that bad?"

He groaned, gripping his ribs. "More than you can imagine. Go back to camp."

Rita watched him as he struggled to remain standing. Rather than listen to him, she ran to his side when he collapsed to one knee, placing her hands on his back. "I won't leave you alone, idiot!"

"Stupid girl," he hissed through his teeth, gritting them as his fangs lengthened.

Wolfe shoved her away, his claws lengthening like his teeth. Unlike his usual transformation, which was instantaneous and magical, the forced shape-shifting was actually physical during this time. His bones grew, and his muscles bulked up. His clothes were feeling too tight and he struggled to remove them all in his agonized state, tossing them away until he was completely naked. Rita watched in horror as his form grew taller, and his skin grew long glossy fur and his tailbone lengthened until it became a bushy tail. This wasn't the same form as before, she realized as his wolf snout grew out with a scream and growl. The ears went pointed and higher on his head till they took on wolf ears. She sidestepped a little as she went to stare into his wolf eyes, the whites turned black and his irises a blazing blue.

Swallowing hard, she tested out his name with a stammer, "D-Damian?" No response, just the sound of his animal-like panting. "Wolfe?" she tried again.

He growled, turning his head towards her. Instead of the form she had seen before, he was now a wolf-man, a bipedal beast with humanoid features like arms and muscles. He howled as the first light of the full moon hit his body, his fee, hands, tail and eyes lighting up in blue flames, but never burning him. Rita took a step back as she watched in horror, knowing he didn't recognize her. The howling stopped, and his eyes landed on her before taking one step towards her, growling softly before he released an earth-shattering roar, the power in it causing wind to blow violently through her clothes and have her taking a couple of steps back. This wasn't the Damian she knew. Like he had said, he had turned into a monster.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for being patient, you guys. Next chapter will involve BLOOD GORE AND SEX...okay, the sex was a lie, but it'll definitely contain a lot of violence. And now you know Wolfe's first name. HOORAAAY! Oh, I don't think I gave you a translation of 'Dae' last chapter, but it basically means 'shadow.' The next three stories in this series is going to be in this order...Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, and Little Mermaid. I think Cinderella will be the biggest challenge because I haven't thought of a particular setting for it yet. Beauty and the Beast I'm very excited for because it's going to be extremely intricate, especially the castle. What I'm aiming to do is make all four stories around 30 chapters, with each chapter being around 6000 words or more. AND THEN, I'll write a fifth and final story. That's all the tidbits I'll give you for now.


	7. CHVII Moonlight Madness

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

* * *

**CHAPTER VII – Moonlight Madness**

It happened too fast. Wolfe had changed too fast. Wolfe was moving too fast. Unarmed without a cloak or silver dust, Rita was forced to quickly back up into a tree and turn her head away, eyes shut tightly, as Wolfe charged towards her, slamming clawed fingers into the bark, his great arms blocking her from escaping. Hot breath steamed upon her neck, causing her to shiver, but she dare not move or utter any sound. Wolfe sniffed at her skin, growling softly, the flames on his body feeling warm but not dangerous. Rita finally opened her eyes when it didn't seem like he was intent on harming her. Her eyes darted towards where his ring would have been. Luckily, it was still there, so maybe he was still unable to hurt her and was currently paralysed. Swallowing hard, she turned her face towards him. The flames in his eyes had dissipated and for a instant, she recognized Damian.

"D-Damian?" she tested.

He growled, baring those pearly canines, causing her to cringe. Another whiff of the air and he leaned closer, enough to press his nose ever so slightly against the crook of her neck. After a moment, Wolfe's panting became easy breathing, as if he found her familiar and comforting the longer he inhaled her scent. Rita decided to be bold and slowly reach up, hand shaking—who was she kidding? Her whole body was shaking. Finally, her fingers brushed the fur upon his muzzle and she gave a tentative stroke over his forehead and one of his large ears. If canines could purr, this would have been one of those moments as he growled softly, ear flicking a little from her touch. Briefly, Rita wondered if Damian misremembered his time as a beast. She squeaked when he suddenly licked her neck in affection.

"D-Damian!" she cried out in shock, but was pleasantly surprised nonetheless.

Feeling awkward, Rita remained still as Wolfe nuzzled her skin. If she had considered him a pet, she would have found this adorable, but Damian meant more than that to her, and this only proved to be embarrassing. Rita then remembered a conversation she had with Damian the last couple of days. It had something to do with werewolves being drawn to those untouched. Being a virgin, this proved to be a problem for her.

"Damian...if you're in there, you're not being yourself." _Obviously_, she inwardly chided. "It's okay, I'm here, just don't...do anything perverted, or murderous."

He responded with another soft growl, taking another lick at her neck which flared heat to her cheeks. At the moment, she wondered if Damian actually had complete control of himself and was merely playing just to get close to her. No, she decided. There was honest fear in his eyes at the mere thought of his full moon cycle, but why? Had she yet to see the darkest side of this creature?

At that moment, Felix came flying in, crying out, "Rita! I heard a terrible noise—HOLY!"

Felix's sudden invasion had startled Wolfe into an animal-like rage, turning away from Rita and roaring in the fairy's direction, sending him flying. At inhuman speed, he charged towards the fairy, taking a swipe at him. Thankfully, Felix managed to fly out of the way by merely a hair and a shriek. Wolfe took another swipe at him, managing to hit the pixie, swatting him at a tree. Pupils now pinpointed on Felix, he went in for the kill as Felix stared in horror and covered his face with his arms up, yelling out. Something grabbed him, and he felt air whoosh by him and a sudden thud, but he was unharmed. Felix opened his eyes to find himself within Rita's grasp, having dove for him before Wolfe could lay a hand on him.

He nearly shed tears of gratitude at that moment. "Rita..." he croaked.

"Fly away!" she demanded, releasing him. "Get out of reach!"

"What about you?!" he asked desperately, even as Wolfe looked around in small confusion, then landed his flaming eyes upon the duo.

"The rings will protect me! Just go!"

Gritting his teeth, he ascended as fast as he could as Wolfe pounced, missing him again. Wolfe growled and leaped up a tall tree faster than Felix could fly. He swiped at him again, Felix swerving out of the way before blasting him in the face, surprising the beast. Wolfe landed on his feet and rubbed at his eyes with a few sneezes of sparkles. Enraged, he turned his recovered gaze on Rita. The girl gulped and screamed as he tackled her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her, instantly stopping her cry. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, and Wolfe growled and barked at her, eyes flaring, his ring flashing. Rita suddenly came to the unfortunate realization that even her ring wouldn't stop him in this form. Like Samael said, even the cloak had its limits.

Claws digging into her shoulders and arms as he held her down, he prepared to tear out her throat with his teeth. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes as she begged softly, "Please...don't do this Damian. You're not like this. I know you're not like this."

He growled and he lunged forward as she screamed one last time, but stopped himself. His ring was sparking something fierce, but his strength was proving too much. It became a three-way struggle as his monstrous self fought against his human self. It helped the ring's magic a little and managed to subdue him for the moment. Rita watched with horrified anticipation as he struggled with himself. Damian was still in there, she thought. It became certain that Damian meant it when he said that he didn't hate her. It gave her hope that he would never hurt her intentionally either. Being what he was now, however, those intentions were being pushed aside by the instinct to kill.

"Damian?" Rita asked with uncertainty. "Do you hate me?"

Wolfe seemed to understand her well enough, and finally, his beastly self began to calm down. The ring no longer deemed it necessary to hold him, losing the sparks and the violent glow it had. He leaned forward, sniffing Rita's neck and barely managed out an animalistic sounding voice, "Ri...ta."

She nearly choked out a sob at her relief. "Yeah...it's me, Damian."

He gave her neck a tentative lick before growling, alarming her once again. Instead of lashing out her throat though, he abruptly released her and ran off in the blink of an eye. Wolfe felt Rita's anguish, and it allowed him momentary control over his inner beast. Running off to the nearest high point, he stared at the moon and then his hands, shocked with the blood that stained his claws—Rita's blood. His own anguish surfacing, he howled, standing tall as his cry echoed out through the air.

* * *

The master sat quietly on his throne until he felt a great sadness enter his chamber. He opened his gold eyes in the dark and smiled ever so slightly. "How interesting. So, the true beast within has awakened on this night. This will prove to be advantageous."

He raised a clawed hand like he was summoning something, and the shadows shifted beneath the candlelight before taking lives of their own. The master stood and walked down his steps to greet his most loyal minions. As they emerged from the ground like black gas and ash, they took on the form of large wolves, dripping with oil and smoking with mist, their eyes a glowing ruby and their teeth made of black diamonds, growling. The next that appeared were bipedal werewolves made of the same mist and oil, only they were more slender like jackals.

He ran his gaze over his monsters. "Find the girl alive, bring her here while her guardian proves useless this night. Make sure she has the cloak with her."

And with that, they misted away.

* * *

Felix shivered in the sky, and upon hearing Rita's scream, he had flown down again. By the time he got there, Rita was lying on the ground and the werewolf was gone. Fearing the worst, he flew towards Rita, finding her eyes open which disturbed him greatly. The smell of her blood filled his tiny nostrils and instantly assumed that the beast had killed her, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh Rita!" he sobbed. "I shouldn't have left you alone! This is all my fault!"

Rita's eyes blinked a few times when she snapped out of her shock. "F-Felix?"

His head shot up. "Rita? You're alive?!"

Painfully, Rita sat up, wincing from the marks Wolfe had left in her shoulders. "For the moment."

"Are you alright?! We should find a healer for you!"

Rita shook her head instantly. "No, there's no time for that. Damian needs our help, and we gotta stop him before he hurts somebody."

"Who's Damian?" Felix asked as Rita got to her feet.

"It's Wolfe. The full moon forced him into that form and he can't control himself. The rings protected me, but everyone else is in danger. We gotta get to him before he finds someone that he can hurt," she explained while she gathered her clothes, changing quickly despite how uncomfortable the wet clothes were. "I might be the only one who can stop him right now," she said, putting on the cloak.

"How are we supposed to stop an unstoppable beast?"

Rita muttered under her breath to herself, "Meet him as an immovable object."

"What?"

She shook her head. "Never mind, we have to go!"

* * *

Not far off, a small village was minding its own business. Children played and chased each other around while the men were bringing in an armful of chopped firewood while the little women cooked supper. Dogs that were napping away the day's events each rose their head, taking a whiff of the air. One by one, they either barked, growled, or both. Some whimpered and took refuge inside the tiny houses. Perplexed by the dogs' behaviour, the men ventured outside to see what disturbed them so much. From afar, they could barely hear the running footsteps of something closing in on them. A shadow leaped over the town wall and landed in the courtyard. One look at the werewolf brought the townsfolk into a panic.

Wolfe looked around with a growl as the women shrieked and the men shouted to each other about getting their weapons. Roaring, the blue flames coming to life once more, he charged at one man pushing his family to get inside the house. With a beastly glee, he bit into the man's shoulder, his victim crying out in pain. After a moment of torturing his victim, Wolfe reached for the man's neck, and with a single clench, crushed his windpipe. The slaughter that followed was a horrific one. He tore out a man's heart, and lashed out another's throat. The children that bore witness through the peepholes of their windows bawled and wailed.

One boy struggled with his mother's grip in screeching protest while his own father stood outside, making an attempt to sneak on the beast with an axe. Wolfe's ears flicked back, hearing a slight leaf crunching sound before he swung around with a growl, grasping the weapon as it swung towards him. The man yelled out as he was now dangling in the air, held by his throat. His son slipped out of his mother's grip and ran out, grabbing rocks and throwing it at the beast's back. Unfazed, Wolfe growled over his shoulder, throwing aside the man that protested his son get back, sending him crashing through a wall of one house. Turning towards the boy, he slowly approached him, hunger flaring in his eyes. The child stumbled backwards, trying to crawl away and his mother shrieked, running to his side and covering him with her body.

Wolfe raised his sharp claws, bringing it down on the woman, spilling her blood all over the child. The boy cried out in anguish for his mother before Wolfe grabbed him and snapped his neck, dropping the corpse before sniffing the air. There was plenty of prey for him in this place. One by one, each house was raided, screams ringing out and then being silenced. The more he killed, the more blood that dripped from his fur. Drenched in it now, he saw a basin of water and began to gallop up the liquid. Rita and Felix had followed the sounds of screams, running into the village, finding nothing but blood stains and littered bodies.

Rita covered her face with a gasp, shocked at the horrifying sight. Damian wouldn't have done this. "This is horrible," she sobbed, her cries of anguish more painful when her eyes landed on the body of a child. "Oh god, what has he done?!"

Felix stood on her shoulder, just as shocked as her with his wings limp. "What terrible fate has fallen upon them?"

"Wolfe?" Rita breathed, spotting the beastly form of what was once a man. "Why?!"

Her cry tore him away from the water, staring at the girl he barely recognized. He didn't growl. Instead, he stood tall then ran off. Rita shook her head, collapsing to her knees. He'd probably gone off to find another village, she decided. Mortified of the monster he became, she sobbed uncontrollably, unable to comprehend why he had done this terrible deed. Felix could do nothing but look around with a sad frown, unable to come up with any words of comfort. Finally a thought occurred to him.

"Let's go find Wolfe and stop him before anymore die. I hate to put the responsibility on your shoulders, but I think only you can stop him now. I may not like him very much, but...we both know he wouldn't do such a thing in his right mind, right?"

After a moment, her sobs seemed to quieten a bit before she stared at Felix. "Yeah," she croaked.

As she stood up, Felix's wings fluttered with determination. "Let's just pray he gave them all a quick death."

Rita could only nod, forcing herself into a run in Wolfe's direction. After a few hours of chasing, they came across a burning village, people screaming from all directions. Rita's eyes darted around, looking for Wolfe, but she couldn't see him, that was until she saw someone's throat being lashed out by a large bipedal wolf. However, it looked different somehow. It was thinner, and as it turned its head towards her, she saw the gleaming red eyes. Something was very wrong here. Taking a step back, she watched as two regular wolves joined its side as they slowly approached her.

"The Wolf King's minions!" Felix gasped. "Rita, he must be aware you're here and is now after you! You've got to run!"

"What about Wolfe?!"

"Forget him, you're more important!"

Before she could protest further, the three minions pounced towards her. Gasping, she stumbled backwards, barely avoiding them. Quickly, she struggled to her feet and ran towards the inside of the village since they blocked her path back to the forest, while Felix tried to distract some of the monsters from escaping villagers. Barking, they ran after her, and Rita swerved around a flaming corner just as a claw came down, missing her. She saw a windmill and ran inside, ignoring the screams of the villagers as they attempted to escape, to no avail, from the village. Right now, she couldn't help anyone, let alone herself. Still, alone and perhaps safe for the moment, she tried to invoke a weapon. Clearing her mind was next to impossible, knowing her life was at stake, but she kept trying to picture a bow and arrow, but nothing came out.

Exhaling with frustration, she shrieked in surprise when a lesser wolf came barrelling through the wall. Rita covered herself to prevent pebbles and splinters harming her. Looking up, she saw the creature staring right at her and growling. Jaws snapped at her as she backed up out of the way and began running up the spiral stairs. Instead of climbing the stairs after her, it began to climb the mechanisms, jumping from one gear to the next faster than she could reach the top. It leaped in front of her on the stairs and Rita could only slowly back away down the steps, a trembling hand sliding down the railing.

A growl resounded through the air before a stone rubble burst out at Rita as a body came slamming through the wall, eliciting a scream of shock from her. The biped now stood behind her and racing beats hammered inside her head. Trapped as both creatures closed in on her, she watched as more of the beastly creatures came to life as shadows stretched and took on a solid form, completely surrounding her. Rita looked around, panicked and defenceless. Samael may have taught her the secret to invoke, but she had yet to master the ability, so it was completely useless at this point.

Frustrated and scared as the growling beasts closed in on her, she thought of her normal life; her best friend, her grandmother, her mother, even her father. Then her mind had filled entirely with Wolfe and how she felt obligated to help him, especially tonight. Tears running silently down her cheeks, she forced herself to concentrate, closing her eyes and closing out the monsters, and took slow and deep breaths. Just as a biped was about to take a swipe at her, her cloak took on a fiery glow and something blasted it backwards, dissolving it into ash upon impact. The beasts stared at her in what would have appeared to be confusion at the sudden turn of events. Rita opened her eyes, hands outstretched, but instead of a bow and arrow forming, red misty light became a silvery-black short sword, gold wrapped around the base of the blade like vines, and the hilt wrapped in red fabric. On the hand guard was a gold crescent moon with a ruby in its centre.

They all bounded towards her and she swung it wildly at any beast that came at her, a small wave of red glowing light stretching forth and taking out a good portion of them at once, exploding them all into ash. Once she had dealt with the last one, she panted, collapsing to her knees, eyes wide open, sword still in hand. Is this why Arella believed she didn't need a weapon? Because she could simply conjure one? At the moment, all the mattered was Wolfe. Having caught her breath and collected her wits once again, she barely managed to stand. Once she didn't feel wobbly anymore, she descended the stairs, leaving the windmill. The fires still burned and people still screamed, but Felix continued to help the villagers as best as he could, but Rita knew he was running low on energy.

Approaching Felix, a biped went to attack him from behind, but she lashed out, sending another wave at the creature before it could even touch the fairy. Surprised, Felix turned towards the girl. "Rita! You're okay!" He briefly glanced at her new weapon. "Where'd that come from?"

"The cloak's power," she said tiredly. Using invoke magic was taking a toll on her, she soon realized after the sword began to flicker and fade, disappearing completely. "My power," she murmured. She was suddenly so tired and simply wanted to curl up and sleep. Shaking her head to jar it awake, she said, "Did you see Wolfe?"

The pixie shook his head. "No—I don't think he's been through h—holy smokes! Rita, watch out!"

Rita couldn't react other than widen her eyes as the ground shook beneath her feet and she fell over from momentary weakness and the force of the tremors. On her knees, she slowly turned to peer over her shoulder, eyes widening more at the sight of a monster twice the size of Wolfe's werewolf form. This creature differed not only in size, but in mere appearance. A quadruped with three heads and flaming mouths, Rita was rendered speechless. The claws were incredibly sharp, and its fur had a more lethal appearance to it, like it had black knives sticking out of its body. It simply stared at her and then abruptly roared at her, the force causing her and Felix to go flying, Rita's back hitting a tree. When it stopped, she fell to the ground and simply lied there, the impact trauma rendering her completely immobile.

A single tear ran from her eye as she watched the monstrous beast approach her, trying to move but to no avail. Felix was nowhere to be seen, and no one would come to help her...no one. Was she to die here? Closing her eyes, resigning to the imminent end that would befall her, she prepared for the worst. Only then did a howl ring out and her eyes shot open. Just as the Cerberus' flaming maws charged up to bring her to her end, Wolfe landed down from the starlit sky and punched the centre head clean across its jaw, sending a fireball hitting the head on its right. The right head shook off the cinders while the left snapped at the werewolf, who merely jumped back and leaned forward with a powerful roar, his blue flames flaring violently. The Cerberus roared back with three times the ferocity and power, though Wolfe held his ground, only being pushed back by the force by a few inches.

Rita was starting to get feeling back in her limbs, but she didn't care nor notice, only feeling relief that Wolfe had come at all, seemingly to rescue her. If he was barely able to recognize her, she'd believe Damian was still in there. She sobbed a little as she struggled to move, but still could hardly move a muscle. Wolfe and the Cerberus circled each other, the werewolf's eyes flaring. Only when he stood between Rita and the monster did her leap forward, and jumped into the air to thrust a fist downwards, slamming the centre head into the ground, the other two heads' jaws knocking off the dirt jarringly. Wolfe snarled and outstretched his claws, burying them deep into the centre's neck and began to pull, evoking a pained whine and yelp from the creature before it was ripped off, blood splashing all over Wolfe.

Before he could tear off another head, the Cerberus batted him away, Wolfe rolling across the ground before it began to heave with effort with a pained growl, another head sprouting to replace the one lost. Covered in fresh blood, it snarled at Wolfe as he stood, who merely growled back. Still, even as a beast, his instincts knew when to warn him away from a fight he couldn't win. Instead, he jumped over to Rita's side, picking her up in his large hands and bounding off, with an angry howl following after him. Rita realized the Cerberus' disadvantage, as it was large and powerful, but it had no speed or jump capability. A mixture of relief and fear filled her, anxious with Wolfe's beastly form. What would he do to her? Somehow, she wasn't certain if she had been rescued at all.

After a few moments, Wolfe stopped by a river, sniffing the air and then dropping her on the ground. She grunted painfully, then blinked with confusion as he sniffed around the area. Finally, he began to dig a hole in the ground and Rita had a sneaking suspicion that she was a bone to be buried—or did that only apply to dogs? Not wanting to find out, she made another attempt to move, scarcely successful this time as she slowly sat up, her back hurting from the physical trauma, relieved she wasn't a vegetable after the way her spine hit the bark. Instead of making an escape attempt, she watched as Wolfe dug a hole under a tree, brushing aside the earth between the roots. Eyes narrowing in confusion, her fascination forced her to watch him continue his thorough hole.

Eventually, he stopped and stared at her, walking over and picking her up again, causing her to squeak. Taking her to the hole, he placed her under the thick roots and covered the access. Rita soon realized what he was actually doing. He was burying her, but not as a possession. Instead, he was burying her to protect her, using the roots as a sort of barrier. Wolfe collected some strange herbs and a bunch of leaves, being ever so patient in covering her up. What the herbs were supposed to do, she had no idea, but she smiled despite herself. While he blanketed the holes, she reached up to grab the roots and pull herself closer to him.

"Damian, I don't know if you can understand me, or if you do, remember it later, but," she trailed off, hesitant to speak further, "I'm sorry I didn't understand you before. It must be difficult to live with such blood. I'll help you find a way to overcome this. Maybe you can learn to control it. I'll support you, even if you may not want my support. I also want to thank you for saving my life more than once. A few times, I did wonder if maybe I should have let you kiss me, and then you wouldn't have been wounded that time, or stuck with a nobody like me." She paused, her gaze lowering slightly while Wolfe seemingly ignored her. "I haven't even accepted who I am yet, so who am I to deserve companions who will die for me? I don't even deserve to be Red Riding Hood—I'm completely useless," she said with a half-laugh.

Wolfe finally lifted soft blue eyes to stare at her, possibly confused by her laughing. Rita just rested the side of her face on the roots, The truth of the matter was, she feared him leaving, she feared missing him. Though she feared him in general, she was afraid she'd begin to fall for the brute despite how she felt about relationships in general. She always made a point to avoid any bad boys or complete jerks. They wouldn't have been good for her. Still, she found the idea of love overrated and stupid. All she cared about was taking care of her grandmother, looking out for her friend Wendy, and keeping up her grades so she could go to university and become an author. Now she had more to care about, and thinking about it overwhelmed her.

"I don't deserve to save Arda," she said sadly. "I can't even help you right now. Even as you are, you're still saving and protecting me." Emitting a sigh, she leaned back. "If you don't want my help after and want to leave, I'll understand. Jesus, I can't believe I'm getting all emotional," she said with a sniff, wiping away at her face. "I thought I was stronger than this. Truth is, I'm not strong. I've learned that cold hard fact ever since I got here. I guess if you and Felix weren't around, I would have broken down on day two...or be lying dead in a ditch."

While she felt sorry for herself, Wolfe poked his nose through the roots, sniffing her hair with a snort. She could smell the blood on him, but could also smell his familiar odour that was simply Damian. Looking up at him, he reached out with his tongue, the slobbery muscle sliding heavily over her cheek. Blinking and trying to ignore how much that grossed her out, a tiny suppressed laugh managed to bubble out as she wiped her face. Somehow, his inner man was sensitive to her. Perhaps it was the ring's magic, but she couldn't be sure. Regardless, she felt a little better. Sending him a small smile, her confidence had been renewed from his 'input'.

"Thanks, Damian. When tonight's over, I'll do what I can. We can forget this quest for awhile and think about you and getting this under control, so you won't have to fear the full moon anymore."

She was just rambling now, but every word was genuine. Yes, she had been horrified by the very real fact that he had killed innocent people, but was that really his fault? Rita knew nothing of Damian, such as his past or what he liked beyond bedding a woman every chance he got. She didn't know his hopes or his goals, but she knew he didn't want to actually hurt anyone. He was just mad from the full moon, and any other day he was killing to defend himself...and now her. Even now he was thinking of hiding her. Still, once this was over, she was probably going to have to deal with Damian's shock at the massacre he committed. A few days ago, she would have imagined him being indifferent to it, but after his behaviour and fear shown to her earlier, she could only imagine his devastation.

Wolfe's ears perked in alert and immediately backed away and went into hiding. Rita peered through tiny holes as she felt the ground tremble. The Cerberus came into view, snorting and huffing, steam emanating from its mouths. The centre head sniffed the ground while the left and right sniffed the air. It came close to Rita's dug hideout and she held her breath, her heart beating a million a minute. Thankfully, she could feel her body again, so if it came down to it, she would run. With those noses, she doubted she would get to hide long. Despite this, the Cerberus turned away with a disgusted snort. Confused, Rita turned to the strange herbs that Wolfe had mixed in with the leaves. Pushing aside some leaves, she stared at the herb that had purple-blue flowers growing on it. If it turned away the wolves, who knew what kind of effect it had on humans, thinking better of touching it, but what was it?

As the monster turned away, Wolfe jumped out of hiding and attacked, jumping with a kick to its ribs, knocking it over and into a tree. Growling, the beast stood up again and steam came from its mouths. Without any regard for possible danger, Wolfe charged forward, his own flames flaring. Unexpectedly, the enemy spewed out a triple threat gush of ash and some sort of boiling black bile that had a smell so strong, Rita was gagging, forcing her to cover her mouth and nose. As the bile drenched and burned Wolfe, he let out a pained yelp, trying to shake it off, but it merely got harder and stuck to him, sticking him to the ground like glue. Rita watched in horror, fearing the worst that Wolfe couldn't move with the possibility of his life being in danger. Triumphant, the Cerberus approached Wolfe, thick and corrupted drool dripping from its teeth.

"No!" Rita shrieked, weakly pushing aside Wolfe's makeshift barrier.

Now aware to her presence, the beast turned to her with a growl. As she ran towards Wolfe, it took a swipe at her, cutting at her arm as she fruitlessly attempted to dodge. Wincing and gripping her bleeding arm, she stared desperately at Wolfe, trying to think quickly of how to get to him. As the beast prepared for another attack, she forced herself to clear her mind, a quick flash of a red aura consuming her as her weapon revealed itself once more and she cried out with an uppercut swing of the sword with her left hand. Another wave of red light lashed out, splitting the right head in half, leaving the halves dangling their like raw meat, oil spilling everywhere like black blood. It released a howl of pain, stomping back as if to shake off the agony, giving her the opportunity to run to Wolfe.

Wolfe growled at her upon her approach and Rita cautiously took a few steps towards him. Damian's hold on his sanity was probably wearing thin, she decided. Like before though, her weapon disappeared from sight due to exhaustion, and she had an idea of the struggle he was going through tonight. Regardless, Rita attempted to remove the black glue with her bare hands, recoiling with a wince when her skin burned slightly on contact. What was this stuff? As she attempted to free him, the Cerberus had recovered, and howled at the moon, giving her a sense of dread. The shadows shifted, elongated and stretched, twisting around and choking the very life of the forestry around her as the vegetation withered and broke to pieces or turned to ash. Rita felt very cold all of a sudden, hairs on her skin rising up in attention to danger, her very bones chilled by the evil that threatened her existence.

Those shadows rose, solidifying into dozens more of the bipeds and quadrupeds, and a couple more three-headed wolves. Rita saw the very area go dark as bits of the grass and tree bark were frosted over. The only vivid colour she could make out was Wolfe's eyes, glowing a bright luminescent blue, flickering slightly with his flames, and the bright blood red of her cloak. Wolfe growled, still fierce despite the hopelessness of their situation. Rita briefly turned to him, then looked at her ring. Even if she couldn't get out of this, Wolfe probably could. Not only did it serve to protect her, but it kept his full potential locked away. She was too tired to summon her weapon again and didn't think she could hold up a barrier for long.

"R-run," Damian growled out.

She gasped, turning to look at him again. "I can't...I can't leave you alone!"

"Forget...me...stupid girl," he managed, still struggling against his prison.

She wanted to argue and protest the issue, but neither of them had that kind of time to snap insults. Rita reluctantly took a few steps back from Wolfe, trying desperately not to cry and failing, she looked around for an opening to get away. If she could run away and hide for awhile, relying on the fact they were after her alone, Wolfe might have a chance to either break out, or for her to regain her strength enough to get him free somehow. It wasn't the greatest plan, but she didn't have a lot of options.

As she went to make a break for it, all three Cerberus spewed the black goo at her, causing her to shriek in a panic as it covered her. Wolfe roared in protest, fighting his prison more urgently. Rita let out a scream which was then muffled by the goo, completely covering her and hardening, compressing on her body, cutting off her air supply. Even if she could breathe, the fumes would have choked her anyway. She stood there, immobile and preparing for the worst. It felt uncomfortably warm, but was surprised she wasn't burning half to death. Samael's words rung in the back of her mind, reminding her of her resistance to fire. Since the Cerberus breathed and spewed fire, and she covered in solidifying ash, she knew she wasn't going to die. Though she was suffocating, she felt calmer.

Each beast approached her cocoon, ready to take her to their master, with Wolfe roaring at them. As he growled and thrashed, the creatures stopped their advance as Rita's shell began to crack with red light before exploding, sending hardened pieces flying, embedding them into each creature like glass shards, taking out most of them as they were tainted by her light. Rita collapsed to her knees and hands, grabbing her throat as she coughed violently. A few bipeds and all three of the Cerberus remained, advancing on her with violent intent. Rita's coughs ceased and she rose her barrier, though it spiked like a porcupine's back, stabbing through the remaining bipeds with an explosion of ash and yelps echoing out. With only the Cerberus left, Rita stood feebly, turning to face them, a sword sparking into existence in her hand. Rather than take them on foolishly, she turned her attention to Wolfe, and swung her sword, using the last of her energy to dissolve his cocoon, which he stood tall, shattering the prison, flexing his beastly muscles. He then glared at the Cerberus and flexed his clawed fingers, the talons growing in length only slightly as the joints cracked.

Rita collapsed to her knees once again, staring at her ring. "I'm not one for prayers, but please...give Damian the strength to beat those things."

In response, her ring glowed, and the ring on his finger did the same in unison. Its light stretched over the length of his arm, his shoulder, torso, legs, until his entire body glowed red. When it finally dimmed down, his eyes remained the same blue, but his fur seemed like a darker black, like he was a shadow himself, and the flames that engulfed him were now gone. In their place, his feet and arms sparked with red electricity. Staring at himself briefly, he turned to the moon and howled, the force shaking the ground as Rita watched and he stopped, now glaring at the opponents before him. The Cerberus spewed fireballs at him and more ash, but he merely stood there as the goo dissolved on contact and the fire bounced off him, falling to the ground. He caught one fireball and held it, the flaming rocking steaming and smoking in his hand. Squeezing ever so slightly, the red spark seemed to corrupt the flame into a bright red and he threw it at one Cerberus, the ball exploding on contact and dissolving the beast entirely.

Felix flew in at high speed, spotting Rita on the ground. "RITA! Are you alright?!"

Rita glanced up at him and smiled with relief. "Felix, you're okay!"

Felix was shocked when she suddenly grabbed him out of the air and gave him the best hug she could, holding him to her chest, eliciting a blush out of him. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, but what about you?"

She released him then. "Wolfe saved me," she explained and pointed to who she indicated.

Felix turned to see Wolfe's newest look. "Why does he look like that?"

"It's the power of the cloak. I asked, and it answered."

Meanwhile, Wolfe charged at the second Cerberus, leaping into the air and landing on its back, his right hand sparking more furiously before he thrust it into the creature's back and grabbed its spine. With a forceful yank, he tore out the chain link of bones, killing the creature instantly in a cloud of ash. Now faced with the first and final Cerberus, they glared at each other with their own respective growls, threatening to overtake each other. Rita and Felix watched in anticipation as Wolfe made the first move, charging at high speed. The Cerberus spewed plain ash from the mouth of its left head right into Wolfe's eyes, disorienting him as he rubbed at his impaired sight. The monster ran at Wolfe then, taking this opportunity to finish him. Despite his lack of vision, Wolfe's ears perked at the sound of heavy footsteps and caught the left head, crushing the skull under his iron grip with a little help from his sparks. The final and middle head yelped in pain before Wolfe grabbed that head with his other hand and used his other hand to shove it down its throat. As the monster struggled, Wolfe released a large surge of electricity, boiling the beast from the inside out until it poofed into a cloud of dust.

Rita sighed with relief, hoping that was the last of them. Still, something else posed a problem. Wolfe turned to the two and with a growl, advanced on them. Felix panicked, urging Rita to stand and run away, but she felt too weak to move. Wolfe's movements slowed in a peculiar way as his blue flames returned and the sparks disappeared, alarming Rita on a different level. Was something wrong? He groaned, collapsing to his knees and gripping his ribs.

"What's wrong with him?" Felix asked.

Rita looked to the sky. "I can't see the moon. It must be close to sunrise." Willing herself the strength, she struggled to her feet and walked towards Wolfe. "Damian?"

Wolfe fell over completely, his body jerking violently as he yelled out in pain. Slowly, the flames died away, fur shedding profusely as his muscles and size shrunk to normal size. The sound of his bones crunching and shifting made Rita cringe, not in the least bit curious to know what that feels like. Felix flinched with every crack, and when Wolfe's face was back to normal, the fairy breathed out in relief. Rita held her breath however. Rita walked over, and clumsily fell to her knees beside the naked werewolf, touching the hot skin on his face before cupping his cheek slightly.

"Damian?" she asked again

After a moment or two, he eventually opened his eyes, the blacks of his eyes now white again, and his blue irises now a tired and dull colour. He turned his eyes to Rita and her heart nearly broke. "What have I done?" he asked hoarsely. She couldn't answer him, especially now that the tears broke loose once again.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for yet another delay. I meant to finish this days ago but things happened. First, I got a cold and I just didn't feel like doing anything as I rarely get sick and when I get sick, I'm down for the count as I'm unprepared for such a thing. I'm okay now, just have the tickle throat coughs for now, but at the moment, I'm not in my best mood. The second thing that slowed me down is the passing of one of my ferrets, Stimpy. He'd been sick for awhile and my mom was considering having him put to sleep just to end his suffering, but he passed away on his own this last Monday. He was the sweetest creature in the world. Though I don't like the idea of favourites, he was definitely the best pet/furry friend we ever had. It still hurts to think about it, so I tried to distract myself by finishing this chapter. Hell, I'm close to crying right now, and I hardly cry, but that's how much Stimpy meant to us. So, those are my excuses for the delay. Hopefully my mind will get back on track soon. I had enough trouble trying to finish this chapter. Maybe I'll add fluff next chapter to make up for the delay and to cheer myself up. That is all.


	8. CHVIII Aftermath and Ash

**Disclaimer:** _Little Red Riding Hood does not belong to me (the writer). It only serves as inspiration for this story._

* * *

**CHAPTER VIII – Aftermath and Ash**

Mist fogged the area of what was once a peaceful and cheerful village this dreary and downpour of a morning. The rain began to pour the moment the clouds rolled in to cover first morning light, as if to echo the very mood of the werewolf who barely remembered anything of the night before. He could remember the screams and the smell of blood—that thick coppery scent that remained imprinted on one's memory. Not only that, but the air was still thick with it despite the rain. Upon awakening, Wolfe had asked what he had done and when Rita answered with tears, he feared the worst, demanding he see everything. The second village was spared from his wrath last night, however, it still suffered loss and massive damage.

Wolfe stared at the bodies of his victims laying lifelessly, scattered across the blood-mixed mud. Rita just stood from afar to give him space, her hood over her face to shield her from the rain, her fairy companion hiding beneath her hair. She watched Wolfe in silent sadness and pity, wishing there was something she could say or do for him. His vacant expression did nothing to quell that desire, only making her sick with the need to cry for him. Wolfe roamed around the village, forcing himself to stare at each face. The worst was when he came across the children. Rita watched as his eyes change for an instant when he came across the first child. It was shock, guilt, grief, then acceptance. It was difficult to witness. After a couple of hours of silence, Wolfe turned to Rita.

"Stay out of the village. I need to be alone," he said quietly.

Felix would have normally argued, but he remained silent even as Rita walked away without a word. After half an hour of slow walking, Rita eventually came across a small cave, which served as shelter from the rain that refused to let up. Sitting on the dirt, she rested her chin on her knees, hugging under her legs, staring off into space. Felix finally left the safety of her hood and flittered about before standing on the ground. The tiny sprite wondered what Wolfe would do now. Honestly, he hoped he wouldn't decide to leave. Without the werewolf, they would be defenceless. Felix had also begun to see a softer side to Rita that seemed warmer with Wolfe around. Upon meeting her, she seemed withdrawn and colder, as if she couldn't trust anybody, but Wolfe seemed to stir up a side of her that made her more...herself.

Felix had said nothing the entire time they stayed and for awhile, thought Rita was about to doze off in her position. Who could have blamed her? Everyone had been up all night, though he was certain Rita had the least amount of energy left. Wolfe may have tried to fight his instincts all night, but he was a creature that recovered quickly. The fairy sat on the dirt, crossing his legs while staring out at the rain. Rita only closed her eyes for a moment, then remembered that they still had to recover their belongings. Wolfe's clothes were still at the camp, though he had found a pair of pants in the village they were close to upon awakening.

She stood and headed out, Felix flying immediately after her, wondering of her intentions. After awhile, he decided that it was best not to question it until he realized where they were headed. Good, he thought, keep her mind occupied with a task. Hours later, she finally reached the camp, sighing indignantly upon discovering that their things were soaked. Looking around, she grabbed everything with a small grimace of disgust and took the clothes to the water. Part of her felt bad about the dress, and decided it wasn't as important as Wolfe's attire, so she stuffed it into her bag and began to wash out the mud of the black clothing. Once wrung out, she headed back to the cave, seeing that the rain was finally letting up, reducing to a spittle.

Though her feet ached from the distant walking, she laid her cloak out and put the still damp clothes on it before gathering rocks to create a fire-pit. Unfortunately, she doubted there would be any dry wood, but tried gathering it anyway, flicking off water by waving sticks around, cradling the bunch in her aching arms. To be perfectly frank, her shoulders had not been treated since Wolfe's claws had been on her. Her body was sore from being thrown against a tree, and she was physically, and mentally, exhausted. Regardless, she constructed a teepee of sticks and took out some kindling, using flint to light it. The kindling burnt out before the sticks could dry out and she sighed with resignation. Felix watched, wringing his hands together before he flittered into the air and charged up a ball of magic and blasted the sticks. Instead of the intended result of a blaze, the sticks scattered everywhere, leaving Felix looking guilty and shocked. When he dared to look at Rita, half-expecting her to scold him for ruining her efforts, he was suddenly surprised by a suppressed sob.

"Oh, no! Rita, I didn't mean for that to happen! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he cried in a panic, looking utterly shamed.

She covered her face and shook her head, voice muffled behind her hands, "No, Felix, it isn't that. I'm so frustrated and miserable...and-and useless!"

The sobs continued and all he could do was console her. "You're tired—you need to get some sleep. I promise you'll feel better once your head is clearer."

Once again, she shook her head. "I don't want to sleep!" she replied as any child would when being told it was nap time.

"You need your sleep!" Felix insisted, no matter how fruitless it was.

Instead of arguing further, Rita ignored him and removed her hands, making another attempt to start a fire. After she put all the wood neatly together again, her face grew more weary with each try till she had no kindling left. For awhile, she just stared at the still damp wood even as night came. They both heard a noise and Felix was on alert, knowing Rita was in no shape to defend herself, despite the trembling that wrought his tiny body. Wolfe approached the cave, almost entirely covered in mud, his presence actually relieving Felix of his anxieties. Rita stared at the man and he only stared back, his normally vibrant blue eyes growing darker at the sight of her. He saw the clothes she bought him on her cloak, and for a small instant, his soul warmed. It was evident that in an attempt to show him kindness, she was trying to dry his clothes, but to no avail.

When she finally looked down and away, his soul chilled again and he regarded the fairy. The pixie blinked and stammered slightly, "H-how are you?"

"I'll live," Wolfe said dismissively, not wanting to talk about it. He looked at Rita again. "Get up."

"She's exhausted! She needs to sleep," Felix exclaimed.

"This won't take long," Wolfe replied, expressionless. "C'mon, Lamb."

Rita hesitated, but got up anyway, following after him deep into the woods. Too tired to question him, and too saddened to argue, all she could do was saunter after him. When he finally stopped, he stood at the edge of a different lake, quite bare to the moon and sky. Rita stared off into space until Wolfe strolled over and rudely awakened her out of her daze. She shrieked when he suddenly began undoing her clothes, terrified of a sudden thought. Though she fought him, she was weak, and he was still very strong, knowing in the long run, he would win. Stripping her to just her lacy bra and panties, he paused, considered her appearance, then picked her up. Rita kicked her legs and beat against his chest, demanding he release her at once, until she could do no more than sputter out shaking curses. Without warning, he had walked into the lake and dumped her in the water, shocking her system awake with the icy cold.

She surfaced, hair clinging to her face, hugging her arms as she scolded him, "What the hell was that for, you prick?!"

"Shut up," he demanded, approaching her, catching her wrist and forcing her to spin around, her back now against his chest.

"W-Wolfe! What are you doing?!"

He brushed his fingertips over the deep welts he had inflicted upon her, quite aware of the smell of her blood now. Wolfe had been meaning to deal with it himself the moment he had finished his task at the village, but felt guilt from the fact that she looked so worn and sickly. Thinking on it now, he should have dealt with this first and made amends beforehand. He had hurt her deeply without meaning to, and he felt rage at the fact he inflicted such wounds. He thanked Arda that he had spared at least her, but at what cost?

"Wolfe?" she asked quietly, calmer now with his touch. She winced, and his hand recoiled slightly.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I did this to you..."

"You didn't know what you were doing," she replied quietly.

"That's no excuse. I could have killed you like those villagers without any remorse! Werewolves don't feel regret," he whispered angrily.

After a moment, she said, "Then why did you protect me from those monsters?"

He blinked. "Monsters?"

"You don't remember?"

"I only remember smelling blood. Yours stuck out the most."

"I'm not that bad," she denied.

"You're in pain, I can tell." Rather than allow her anymore opportunity to argue, he wrapped an arm around her waited, holding her closer against him.

"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"Relax," he hushed. "I kept your knickers on, and my pants are still present. I'm not going to do anything like that. Strange knickers though."

"It's called a bra and underwear!" she snapped at him, earning a smile in her direction, causing her to blush.

"I didn't say they looked bad. However, your face is ugly right now."

"Then why bother calling me—!" she stopped, feeling too hurt to finish.

"Beautiful? I didn't lie." He sighed and turned her around, raising her chin. "You've got the exhaustion-ugly, that's all. You should have taken care of yourself today. You haven't slept for nearly two days, and I can tell you haven't eaten either. You're pale, and you look sick."

"Because I was worried about you!" she shrieked. "I had to force myself to watch every expression you made at the village! I wanted to do something, but I felt useless and in the way!"

He growled, "Stupid girl."

"I'm not stupid! You're stupid! I'm certain my IQ is higher than yours, you stupid twit!"

"I don't know what exactly IQ is, but I'll have you know that you're behaving irrationally. If you were so worried about me, what good are you to me weakened by your stupidity?!" His question had shocked her into silence. Resigned and forcing himself to calm, he sighed. "I don't remember exactly what happened, but if what I did put you in this state, then I should leave for your own good."

The shaking of her head was instant as her panic rose. "N-no! I don't want you to go!" She gasped, covering her mouth, looking away.

Wolfe's eyes had widened slightly, and that warming sensation tickled at him. "You don't?"

"I..." she began, shaking more out of embarrassment and anxiety than from the cold, "don't want you to go. I'm used to you being around."

"And?" he prodded.

Her cheeks flared, though her gaze still avoided him. "I like having you around."

The warming of his soul returned and this time it did not dissipate, causing him to smile softly. "I see," he said, somewhat relieved. "Why'd you call me Wolfe just now?"

"Did I?" He nodded, and she wrung her hands. "I thought maybe you wouldn't want me to call you by Damian."

"Whatever your reason, I don't mind if you call me that," he assured her. "As long as I still get to call you Lamb," he teased, chuckling at her scowl. Without another word, he turned her around again.

"Damian?"

"Shh," he hushed once more.

Before Rita knew it, Wolfe had placed his mouth on her left shoulder, causing a short state of panic in her before she felt his tongue on one of her welts. She winced, then released a small gasp as his mouth began to ebb away the pain that nagged at her all day. He sucked a little on her skin, making her shiver, and after awhile, he began giving her right shoulder the same attention. Rita had to admit that it felt oddly good. His mouth worked a kind of magic on her that seemed different than how other guys had made her feel, but she felt no guilt about it. When he finished, removing his mouth, she resisted the urge to whimper a complaint. He spun her around to have them face to face, his blue orbs boring into her green pools.

"There is...one other thing I recall from last night," he whispered. Cautiously, so as not to scare her, he leaned his head forward till his nose barely brushed the skin on her neck, eliciting a shiver from her. "The scent of your skin and the sound of your heartbeat."

She swallowed, deciding to take a small leap. "What exactly do you remember?"

"Doing this," he said, nuzzling her neck, "and this." He finished off the recollection by trailing his tongue up her neck to her jawline, her face going red from the intimate touch. He raised his head to stare at her where she returned his gaze unblinkingly. Slowly, he leaned forward, close to closing the gap till her eyes suddenly fluttered closed and she passed out in his arms, much to his shock. "Rita? Shit!" He held her up till his arm managed to hook under her knees and he carried her out, looking extremely disappointed. "Damn it all."

* * *

The smell of burning wood filled her senses when Rita finally roused the middle of the next day. She opened her eyes to the sight of Wolfe cooking lunch, rotating a skewered hare over the flames. Blinking, she realized that she lacked clothes under the blanket she was tucked into, including her undergarments. As if sensing her eyes, Wolfe turned his head towards her and gave a wry smile.

"Awake, are we? Good afternoon," he greeted.

"Why am I naked?" she asked slowly. He let out a full blown grin and her mouth gaped. "No...we didn't!"

"No, we didn't. I was just messing with you. You passed out and I carried you back here. Stripped you of your knickers so you wouldn't catch a cold."

Rita saw how he now wore his clothes, completely dry, and he had made a makeshift rack to allow her own clothes to dry, also clean. What surprised her most was that her dress was also there. Did he wash her clothes? It seemed unheard of, then again, she knew next to nothing about him. Rita sat up, wrapping the blanket around her torso before joining his side, sitting on her knees.

"I didn't know you could cook," she said conversationally.

"I only know a little. I hardly eat cooked food. Besides, this isn't for me." She blinked, pointing to herself in question as he nodded. "You haven't eaten. The bug already went to fetch himself some grub."

Silence settled between them. Eventually, he removed the rabbit and cut it up on top of a large leaf and handed it over. Honestly, she didn't have rabbit before and she had never planned on eating one. Swallowing hard, she picked up a piece and hesitantly put it in her mouth, chewing slowly. The taste wasn't bad, it just required a few spices, or a bit more flavouring. It took her awhile to chew through some of the meat and her jaw hurt by the time she finished.

"Meat isn't usually that hard to eat," she commented.

"Wild hare have tougher meat. Domestic are a little more tender. Feel better?"

"A bit," she admitted. "I summoned a sword," she said out of the blue. When he stared questionably at her, she added, "While you weren't yourself, we were attacked by...minions of Draug. I managed to use Invoke."

"And it was a sword?" She nodded. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

"Not really."

He nodded, licking his lips in deep thought. "Unfortunately, neither do I. How'd it go?"

"It made me...tired. After awhile, I lose my focus and it disappears."

"That _is_ a problem. From what you're telling me, that rag of yours seems to draw from your strength in order to work its magic."

"It also changed you for a bit." He blinked and looked at her. "When those monsters began to overwhelm you, I...wanted the cloak to help you. I think, because of the rings, it also gives you access to additional strength. After, you took care of them like they were nothing."

Wolfe's eyes bored into the side of her head, confused and at a loss for words, but something bothered him. "How did it change me?"

"Physically, you looked darker and more dangerous. Still, it was like you were...aware of yourself to some extent, like you knew who the enemy was. You also seemed merciless in your kills."

For awhile, he remained silent, staring at the flames that he allowed to die. When he noticed her shiver, he said, "Get dressed. There's a favour I want to ask of you. Something only you can do."

* * *

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" Felix asked, flying close to Rita.

Fully dressed with her hood on, she wandered through the forest, looking at the base of trees and at bushes. "Because Damian asked me, and I want to do it. It's the least I can do."

Felix sighed, also looking around. "Hey! I think I've spotted something!" He flew off and Rita blinked, following after him. "Look, look!" he said excitedly, bounding up and down in the air.

Rita did look and she smiled for the first time in a few days. Before her was a small field of white and yellow flowers. The trees gave enough room to allow the sunlight to reach them, and most were still wet from the rain the day before. Avoiding stepping on them to the best of her ability, Rita began to pick each blossom with by plucking the roots out of the ground after she removed her cloak. After a couple of hours, she tied up her cloak and went to the lake, her cheeks tinged slightly with the memory of last night. Clearing her throat, which confused her friend, she gathered some water in a couple of watering cans that Wolfe had provided her.

When they finally got back to the village, Wolfe was kneeling before a few dozen mounds of disturbed ground—graves he had dug the day before. Rita put down the watering cans and walked past him, her hand brushing his shoulder as she did. He barely glanced up at her as she went straight to work, digging small holes for each flower and then covering up the roots, then supporting them with large stones Wolfe had gathered to use as grave markers. Once she finished that, she took the cans and watered each plant. She used leftover water to wash her hands before standing up and tossing the cloak around her shoulders. The sun was just beginning to set, the orange light washing over the area, shadows stretching.

Rita finally joined Wolfe's side, standing next to him with Felix on her shoulder. "Maybe you'll feel a little better if you say something."

For awhile, it didn't seem like he wanted to, instead he'd rather move on, but after much hesitation, he finally spoke, "There are no words to describe the regret I feel over your deaths. No apology can make up for my crime, and no act of kindness will redeem me. Regardless, I pray you find peace and solace in death. If it's any comfort, I will always feel this shame. Perhaps one day, I will pay for this in full."

Rita frowned a little more but remained silent. Wolfe stood up and walked away from the graves, and the village. Sighing, she followed after him, grabbing her bag and pulling on the hood. "I want to stop at the other village along the way."

"Alright," Wolfe said quietly.

The werewolf stopped suddenly and growled, pupils shrunken to pinpoints, his muscles and stance visibly tense. Before Rita could ask what was wrong, now alarmed, he was at her side, putting her behind him as he glared at the village. Blue eyes moved across each house back and forth, trying to pinpoint the source of his anxiety.

"Come out! I can smell you!" he demanded.

"Damian?" Rita asked, gripping the arm that kept her back.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to sniff me out, werewolf," shot out a female voice. A dark figure stepped out from a ruined house. "I've been following you for a few days now."

He merely growled, "What?! That's impossible!"

She held up a vial with a spray cap and yellowy liquid inside. "Forest musk. Regardless, it wouldn't fool a werewolf so easily." Seeing the disturbed expression on his face, she smiled under her hood ever so tauntingly. "My, you _are_ feeble for a creature of the moon."

Wolfe growled more violently, "I'll show you weak."

Rita stared at the woman, recognizing her from the town with the warning. "Damian, wait!" He blinked as she walked around him to approach the woman. "You're...from the Order?"

The dark woman smiled more genuinely this time as she replied, "Very good. I suppose Lord Samael has informed you of my trailing presence."

"Yes. You're to...train me?"

"Indeed." The woman removed her black hood, revealing light skin, and bright amber eyes that looked like fire. Her hair was blue-black, short, layered, messy and mid-length, layered bangs framed her face. "My name's Ash. If you'll permit me, I wish to join your party. I could be of great use to you." Ash watched in small amusement as Rita stared at her teeth, specifically her slightly lengthened fangs. She only smiled. "Don't let my pearly whites put you off, Lady Rita. It's one of the side effects of becoming one with the shadow element. Rest assured, I'm still human."

"O-oh, sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

Ash chuckled, "Don't worry about it. I stared the first time too."

"Wait a minute," Wolfe cut in. "I remember you. I saw you at the pub that night, spying on me no less!"

"Good memory, for someone so dull," she quipped.

"You also warned me about the full moon," Rita said quietly.

Wolfe went silent as Ash replied, "I'm already aware you didn't heed my warning. Still, I wasn't just talking about your Pup here."

"Pup?" Wolfe repeated slowly.

"I suggest you leave him behind somewhere to chew on his leg like the mongrel he is." The growls became more violent, but Ash didn't budge nor did she show any hint of fear. "If a mere Cerberus can handle one measly werewolf, what threat are you to me?" she taunted.

"That's enough," Rita demanded, silencing both ends. "He wasn't himself."

"As he's already told you, that's no excuse," the woman replied, the mockery actually keeping Wolfe quiet though he ground his teeth. "Do you want to face another incident like this? Have to bury an entire village and feel sorry for yourselves for a couple of days?" As much as Rita wanted to argue, she couldn't. Ash sighed. "Even a werewolf at his age should have some level of control on a full moon. Tell me, Pup, statistically, how often are people attacked by werewolves on a full moon?"

Wolfe growled, "What of it? It's not like I had anyone to bloody teach me."

Ash shook her head. "You are the most shameful werewolf I have ever known. You're the first I've met that has no control on a full moon. The new king had no one and he learned just fine."

"What?" Rita called out. "What do you mean, new king?"

The older woman sighed. "Let's find camp for the night. I've only just learned of these facts myself."

* * *

The croaking of frogs made it easy for Trull to feel...uneasy. Why would his own master punish him by leaving this novice of a boy with him? What annoyed him most was that the boy never spoke, only when he did, it was to correct Trull on his sense of direction. Eventually, the goblin was annoyed enough to hand him the bleeding map. Night had come quickly, and this journey was proving to be a long one. Just to prove himself to his master, he refused any rest whenever the boy suggested it. Stupid human, he thought, how weak, thinking of sleep.

Ansel cut into his thoughts. "According to this map, it's not far now."

"Well, about bloody time! Still, I don't know why we need this hag. I can take care of one little girl, no problem!"

The Rider said nothing. There was good reason why their Lord didn't rely too much on Trull—he was a complete idiot and blind. It wasn't just the girl they were dealing with. With her was a werewolf that seemed powerful enough to defend against the shadow minions. Ansel had no doubt that the dark agent had joined them by now, making things a great deal more complicated. Stepping on mud, he looked around the boiling swamp, murky water bubbling, emitting a putrid stench that would have even werewolves running. Beyond the swamp was a stone cottage, with thorny vines climbing the walls. Smoke rose from the tiny chimney, a dim glow shining through a single window made of stained glass.

"This is it," Ansel said.

"We'll let's get the bloody bitch and be on our way!" Before Trull could approach closer, a vine snapped at his ankle, wrapping tightly before dragging him across the ground then dangling him in the air. "What the bloody devil is this?! PUT ME DOWN!" he spewed angrily, thrashing about.

"You should learn some manners, especially when you're trying to buy my services, goblin," came a calm voice.

Ansel turned to see the wooden door open slowly, revealing a beautiful woman inside. Her hair was long, and pure white, the ends slightly waved. To him, she looked no more than her late twenties. Her skin was impossibly smooth and creamy looking. Her body looked lithe and frail. Her eyes sparkled darkly of onyx. The dress she wore was simple in design as it was white, fitting, with a flowing and airy skirt, and with bell sleeves. Over top was black mesh wrap skirt with silver coins hanging from it, as well as a black corset with black ribbon for lacing. She wore no shoes, which he found strange, but it did not distract from her ethereal beauty.

"Come closer, boy," she beckoned softly with a simple gesture of her hand, silver rings and chains clinking together. "Show me your face."

Ansel moved inside the house, removing his hood to reveal a young man with blue eyes and semi-short curly blonde hair. "My Lord, the Wolf King, requests your services, m'lady."

She only appeared amused. "My, such a young face to serve such a dangerous king. Regale me as to what he could possibly offer me."

"An opportunity against an assassin from the Order of Dae," he said simply, and he could have sworn that her eyes sparkled for a moment.

"A dark agent?" She laughed heartily, "Do not joke with me on such a thing. The chance of anyone looking for an agent to actually find one, the odds are very slim, even for someone like me."

"You're to deal with one who is, without a doubt, watching over someone. They, along with a werewolf, prove to be troublesome obstacles for my Lord. He wants someone that's in their care, and he's willing to give you anything you desire, should you prove useful in disposing of them."

Intrigued, she asked, "And who could be so important to said Lord?"

Ansel hesitated but decided she would find out anyway. "Red Riding Hood."

Her hand slowly fell from her face as she simply stared at him. "She has come?"

"We believe it's her. I've seen her myself. The fact that she travels with a werewolf is strange alone."

"Indeed," she agreed. "Werewolves are solitary beasts. I will accept the offer, merely out of curiosity of this girl. I will find out for certain if she is truly the one your master seeks. There is one other thing I desire."

Ansel was afraid to ask, but... "What is it?"

* * *

Firewood crackled as the flames broke it down, warming the small party that sat around it. By the time they left the village, it was already growing dark, so Rita would have to wait till tomorrow to do what she wanted to do. Ash had replaced her hood, sitting casually in front of the fire, staring at Rita, waiting for her to initiate the conversation that would decide their next move. Wolfe glared at Ash now and then, and for once, Felix shared his sentiments, not trusting the woman at all. Everyone knew how dangerous agents of the Order were, and it was never a happy ending.

Sighing, Rita looked up at Ash. "Okay, tell us what you know."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

"Well, first of all, you mentioned there was a new king."

"Ah," Ash said. "Well, to put it simply, Draug is officially dead. He's been dead for three-hundred years. However, he didn't have any offspring, so he did not have any heirs...except one," she explained, holding up one finger. "As I'm certain Samael has already told you, Draug is the only werewolf capable of turning humans into his kind. Those bitten by him also obtain that ability, and some control over the shadow minions. Silver does not have the same affect on a Wolf King as it does on a normal werewolf."

"I'm already aware of this. Samael told me himself that Draug was dead and all that. What I want to know is who the new king is."

Ash stared at Rita, impressed that the girl _had_ been paying attention. "You know the story of the final battle that ended the Wolf King."

The girl nodded. "Yeah, a wood-cutter who was the guardian of the Elf Priestess at the time. He died defeating the king."

"Did he, now?" Ash said mysteriously, letting the silence hang between them all.

Wolfe arched a brow but Rita just stared wide-eyed at the assassin. "You can't be serious. The fall would have killed him. I was told he fell with Draug when the battle ended!"

"It's been established that Draug had bitten him during their battle, and for three-hundred years, with the loss of a woman he had loved and his humanity gone, he had struggled alone and gone mad with the same desire to take control of the very magic you wear on your back."

"Wait, she died?" Rita asked sadly.

Ash could only sigh wistfully. "When Draug took possession of the cloak, he had killed its guardian, thus eliciting a vengeful response from who is now the enemy we are currently to be concerned with. He became a werewolf with vengeance in his heart and soul, and it corrupted him to become just like Draug, only this time, the king we face is twice as powerful, and much smarter. Draug was just a beast, but Lowell is calculating. However, he doesn't desire power simply to have power. He has a purpose in mind. What that is, I don't know."

"Big baby," Wolfe muttered, poking at the fire with a stick.

"You should talk, murderer," Ash mocked.

He was on his feet in an instant, getting in Ash's face, as she was on her feet just as quickly. "You have something to say to me, human?!"

"Your reflexes are dull," she replied quietly. To elaborate, Wolfe felt a gentle tap between his legs, a simply but sharp silver dagger threatening his goods. Giving one final snarl, he backed off, eyes flashing dangerously. "You emotional control is weak. Without Lady Rita's help the other night, you would have been easily disposed of by the Cerberus. On werewolf standards, you are the weakest. You might as well be at the level of a pup."

"That's enough!" Rita exclaimed. "This bickering won't help anything!" Sighing, she continued, "Look, I've already promised I'd help Damian find a way to get his full moon transformations under control. If you know how we can do that, I'd greatly appreciate some tips."

The assassin put away the dagger as she spoke thoughtfully, "There might be a way for him to...train himself. Have you told her how werewolves traditionally become more powerful?"

For an instant, Wolfe actually looked fearful. "Don't..." he warned, though it came off as more of a plea.

Ash turned to Rita then, pleased to see the fearful curiosity in the girl's features. "When they kill, they have to eat a particular organ that increases not only their physical strengths, but their intelligence as well. With each meal, they become more powerful and complex. It's one power that they share with vampires, only the difference is, werewolves have to eat the heart of their victims. It is the source of the soul."

Rita look horrified, then stared at Wolfe who actually looked pale. "Damian?" Werewolves truly were terrifying creatures.

"Thankfully, the Pup here doesn't make habit of that," Ash added casually. "It's why he's so feeble for a werewolf. To you, Lady Rita, he may seem strong, because you are not of this world and have not encountered other werewolves, but his is definitely weak. As a guardian of your very life, he will be useless. Do you honestly believe a werewolf would have been wounded so easily by humans, even those trained to kill his kind?"

Before Wolfe could retaliate in response, Rita's eyes narrowed. "This whole time, you've been watching us, and you didn't bother to reveal yourself? Those people that died could have been saved. From what I've been told, the Order of Dae is a league of assassins. You must have had training, if you _are_ who you say you are. Why didn't you intervene?"

"Because you're more important," she said coldly. "You may not think so, and don't give me the whole, 'that's wrong' schtick. Besides, it's not my place to simply intervene every massacre. Even I wouldn't do so well against a large group of shadow minions. Use your head, little girl. There are battles even you shouldn't be involved in, and the other night was one of them. You should have ran before you had to find out first hand how hard those monsters will strike. Until you learn to control the very abilities only you have access to, you're defenceless. You're too important to have your life risked."

Rita lowered her head, staring hard into the campfire. "What's the point of saving Yavi'thil if there are no people left alive."

"What's the point of protecting people when you can't even protect yourself," Ash shot back. The retort seemed to have sunk in as she watched Rita's expression change. Satisfied with that, she added, "People die every day. Some of the time, it's through murder, other times, through recklessness. What good are you to the people if you're dead? There's a war coming, Lady Rita. You best prepare for it before you decide to put yourself at the front lines."

Though Rita hated to admit it, the woman was right. Wolfe and Felix remained silent, staring between the females. The werewolf didn't trust this woman, and what she said made him uneasy, but if there was a war coming, and Rita was supposed to fight in it, where would that leave him? Though it did not appeal to him in the least, he had to get stronger somehow, and without betraying his morals.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry about the delay folks. Lost my job over a week ago, so I've been bummed about it a little, putting me in less of a mood to write. Hopefully I'll find another one soon. If not, prepare to hear absolute silence from me as it's possible the power might get cut off soon (been a little behind on the bills). Anyway, on a more positive note, you now know a little more about werewolves in Arda. Also, you got a little fluff between Rita and Wolfe. I know y'all were thinking they were gonna get intimate. Still, a little too soon for them to get together. On a random note, I found a couple of songs that actually kind of suit this story, so feel free to look them up on youtube or google. First one is Radioactive by Imagine Dragons, and the second is Howl by Florence + the Machine. Anyway, till next chapter.


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